Sightless Renegade
by HarleyChase
Summary: The Third Shinobi World War devastated the Lands of Rain and Grass, leaving countless refugees to fend for themselves. When Uchiha Itachi's team rescue a war orphan and bring her back to Konoha, suddenly the world shifts a little and the Village Hidden in the Leaves will never be the same. AU.
1. Nightmares and Daydreams

Chapter 1 – Nightmares and Daydreams

oOo

The Third Shinobi World War began when Uchiha Itachi was four years old. He remembered the day, because it was the day Father decided it was time he begin his special training for the clan, despite the fact that no Uchiha in years had been trained before the age of six due to the acute stress the more difficult lessons could cause.

But war bred impatience, and while his father dressed in his flak vest and retrieved the bandolier of kunai that hung on the wall, young Itachi found himself rubbing bleary eyes as he stood in the training room across from his new trainer, Koba-sensei.

Uchiha Koba was a hardened veteran of the Second Shinobi World War, a man who had fought at the front lines and had failed a mission at the last moment due to acute chakra exhaustion and overuse of the Sharingan. His recklessness had sent him home to Konoha, and it seemed the bitterness of the failed mission bled into his ruthless lessons.

But Itachi was no stranger to stern adults, and he learned quietly and rapidly, without complaint. Because Konoha was in war, and that was exactly what was expected of him.

As soon as he mastered the basics of taijutsu and the theory of genjutsu, (without an activated Sharingan learning genjutsu in practice was nigh pointless) Itachi was carted off to the Academy at the age of five. His mother fretted and worried, often murmuring to his father that it was too soon, much too soon, and that he may be bullied by the older students. No other student his age had passed the Academy entrance exam, his genetically developed chakra coils far superior to those of other children born without bloodline limits. But Fugaku was firm in his decisions, and as the clan leader, he didn't have to ask politely to have things his way, and the fact that he pleaded gently with his wife to understand made it even harder for her to deny him.

"It's for the good of the clan, Mikoto. It would be too cruel to force the burden onto another Uchiha family. If anyone can handle the pressure, Itachi can. He's our son, after all. Times are not easy, nor are they lenient."

Her face still looked ashen, but she knew she was speaking to the clan leader as well as her husband.

"As you say, Fugaku-sama," came her stiff reply, the honorific laced with scorn. Fugaku sighed quietly, feeling an incoming headache well on its way as was always the case when he upset his wife. She was a gentle soul, but when it came to her son…

"You shouldn't fret so much in your condition, Mikoto," he answered gently. "I'll talk to the teachers and have them directly report to me if there is any trouble with other students. Itachi should be proud that he has been granted admittance so early. And as his mother, the loveliest Uchiha to set foot in this Compound, you should be proud to have borne a genius."

Mikoto turned her back to him sourly.

"Don't you try to convince me with flattery, Uchiha Fugaku," she shot back icily, but the corner of her mouth twitched upward as she walked away. "I'm going to talk to Itachi." His shoulders slumped with visible relief, some of the tension bleeding from his stance before he straightened once more. Only perfect posture was suitable for a clan head. Sometimes he speculated that the winning a war was far easier than winning over his wife, but of course, the fact that she was firm in her decisions was one of the reasons he loved her.

oOo

Oh, how the teachers adored the Uchiha prodigy and heir. They showered him with praise, and whispered murmurs of the promise he showed. To learn so quickly at such a young age, they gossiped when they thought no unwanted ears were present, he may be the legacy that follows the Yellow Flash, a man who was turning the tide of the war as they spoke.

Even quieter murmurs were whispered that he may replace the Uchiha that failed in combat just recently, and died on the mission that turned the war in their favor. Itachi did not indulge in their praise, nor did he particularly enjoy it. The Uchiha that had lost his life was one of his cousins, a bit loudmouthed for their typical clan member, but all the more friendly and loved for it, and Itachi mourned for him as the rest of his clan had. He worried about who might be next. His father? His Uncle?

He decided then that he hated war. Hated it with a passion that bled, and he would focus his efforts into stopping it at all costs.

The other children in the class heard the whispers of the teachers and jealous glares of envy were often shot in his direction. No one dared speak to him for fear of his father, and as a result his Academy days grew rather bleak and lonely. For lack of a social circle, he spent his time training and studying, one of the common phrases of the Academy sticking in his head.

 _Even a sharp kunai will lose to a sharper mind._

But with his progress, even more uncomfortable praise was showered upon him, and he grew rather shy of his classmates as their envious glares only worsened. He was not permitted to take the graduation exam that year, nor did he desire to. Even the Academy had its limits on the age at which one would be sent to the field during times of war, apparently. Five years old was too young. It was as simple as that.

When asked what he desired of his occupation, the answer was always quiet and respectful.

"To bring honor to my clan," came the automatic and polite reply. His secondary goal was to prevent war, but that was an unbecoming reply of a child being trained into a soldier. It could be seen as laziness, the same as an apprentice chef wanting to prevent the desire to eat. The bare truth, however, he kept to himself, eyes downcast and demeanor shy when the thought came to mind.

 _I want a friend._

Then during his second term, he met Shisui.

"Yo! I'm Shisui. You're Itachi, right? Nice to meetcha!" Shisui's smile was blinding, and Itachi stared for a moment, transfixed, his place in his book on Chakra Theory momentarily forgotten. The awkwardness of a lonely childhood became apparent when his mouth moved and no words came out. Never, not once, had a student so willingly approached him. Finally he settled for nodding.

Shisui leaned over and glanced at his book.

"Chakra Theory, huh? I read that a couple months ago. Kind of a pain. It won't go into detail about dojutsu since the clans are so touchy about their secret techniques. I don't see why they worry, though. Can't use Sharingan if you don't have the eyes anyways, right? Same with that Hyuuga technique." He rolled his own eyes.

Itachi nodded again, this time hesitantly. Shisui's words bordered on a rebellious nature that Itachi had never seen before when it came to the clan. He admired Shisui's bravery, shamelessly speaking his mind, though he wondered if it might hinder his progress as a shinobi in the future.

Shisui frowned at him, crossing his arms.

"You _can_ talk, right?"

Itachi felt color rush to his cheeks as he realized he'd been staring. He was not behaving properly for the son of a clan head, age aside.

"O-of course I can," he mumbled, just a tad defensively. Shisui blinked, and then looked visibly relieved. He laughed.

"Good! Wanna help me glue our new sensei to his seat?"

Itachi stared nervously over Shisui's shoulder, where the aforementioned teacher was glowering over the Uchiha.

"Care to repeat that, Shisui-san?" the teacher questioned in a deceptively mild voice. Shisui swallowed as his face paled several shades.

"It was a metaphor, Sensei," Itachi interjected quickly, his voice calm and collected. "Shisui-san was insinuating that we would work hard and make much progress this year. We intend to behave maturely so that you do not even feel the need to leave your seat, hence the metaphor of being glued there. It is an honor to be able to benefit from your tutelage."

Itachi's voice was grave and serious, accompanied by a polite, if false, smile, and the teacher took a step back, somewhat flustered. Shisui's smile was positively radiant as the teacher nodded thoughtfully and walked back to his seat.

"I have a feeling we're going to get along," he remarked cheerfully, and plopped himself into the empty seat behind Itachi.

Shisui was a year older than Itachi, his friendly demeanor inspired by his multiple treks through the senior homes, where he found himself gossiping with the elderly women there.

"They know more than half the reconnaissance units in Konoha," Shisui swore once when Itachi questioned his behavior. "Those baa-sans would be great in the field! Rita-baa told me that Susan-san's husband is having an affair and the woman involved is pregnant with twins. _Twins_! How in Kami's name would Rita-baa find something like that out without being like, in Anbu or something? I'm telling you, those ladies are part of a coalition or something."

Itachi had merely offered a small, exasperated smile, and continued to study a rather complicated analysis of Fire Release techniques. He had been practicing his Great Fireball Technique, and showing Father anything less than perfection would simply be unacceptable.

"You wanna spar tonight at the usual place?" Shisui asked, resting his hands behind his head. "You've seemed awfully distracted lately."

Shisui tried to look annoyed, but one eye opened and stared at Itachi when his best friend smiled slightly in a rare expression of unmistakable pride. Had the bastard been perfecting a technique without him? Had he—Kami forbid—gotten a girlfriend before he did?!

 _Itachi, you sly bastard—!_

"I have to take care of my little brother," Itachi answered simply, the pride in his voice still obvious.

"Little brother?" Shisui asked, surprised, before the realization dawned on him. "Oh yeah! Mikoto-san finally gave birth, didn't she?" He thumped his friend on the back, previous assumptions disappearing as if they had never existed. "That's great, Itachi! Congratulations!"

A real smile broke through Itachi's usually stoic expression as the younger Uchiha nodded.

"Mhm!"

Shisui blinked in surprise, before he returned the smile with a pleased blush.

"Somethin' can finally make you smile, eh? Good for you, Itachi."

The very same night, Itachi sat on the back porch of his home, rocking little Sasuke back and forth to soothe the agitated infant. He stared at the full moon, sensing a strange cold feeling tickling his senses.

 _What is this feeling?_

Sasuke began to cry and Itachi frowned slightly. His little brother never cried when he had held him before.

"Of all the nights for Mother and Father to be out," he sighed quietly, before returning his attention to Sasuke.

"Hush, Sasuke," he murmured gently. "Don't worry. No matter what happens, I'll protect you."

And then a blanket of chakra so heavy and dense the very air seemed to thicken slammed into him like a bolt of electricity.

"Nngh!"

Itachi grit his teeth, struggling to breathe as Sasuke wailed even louder. His eyes turned toward the glow of fire near the center of the village even as his legs tensed to take him in the other direction.

"Mother… Father… Shisui-san…" he scowled and then pulled Sasuke close to him as he made his decision. "Please be safe." And then he turned away and ran, far from the murderous killing intent in the air before it suffocated his baby brother. He didn't realize or acknowledge the fact until much later, but that was precisely the moment Itachi's priorities organized themselves, and his mind accepted the fact that Uchiha Sasuke was first and foremost in any situation, regardless of consequence.

This would be consciously realized much later, on _that_ mission. That mission where he met _her,_ but as of the present it barely registered as he fled the Kyuubi like a coward for the sake of an infant.

If war had been his previous incentive to learn rapidly, the Kyuubi attack blew that incentive completely out of proportion. Shisui had been kept safe behind a seal with the other students, much to his chagrin when he realized several of their clan had given their lives in the attack. Suddenly it seemed Itachi's age was no longer an issue in taking the graduation exam, and both he and Shisui graduated as soon as the next term ended. Itachi had just turned seven, and he was a fully-fledged Genin.

They were given brand new forehead protectors as a sign of the cannon fodder Shisui predicted they were to become.

"We are at war," he pointed out when Itachi objected. "They need more shinobi out there, so it only makes sense that the Academy's being pressured to spit out kid soldiers by the dozen."

And it was true that the graduating class had been rather large this year, but Itachi knew several of them would not even make it onto a specialized Jounin team, not only because of the stamp of approval some Jounin required the Genin to earn, but also because most Jounin were currently in Rain or Grass, rounding up refugees and negotiating peace treaties. Teaching a team of fresh rookies was likely the last thing on their minds.

The Kyuubi attack had interrupted the recovery process of Konoha from the Third Shinobi World War, and other countries were hesitant to form alliances with the half destroyed village. Konoha would have to prove its worth.

"We're at the _end_ of a war," Itachi corrected. "But even so," he murmured quietly, turning a page in his book. "Such words should be spoken with care. You never know when someone is listening."

Shisui glanced around nervously in spite of himself, realizing how close to treason his words were getting. It would not do to be overheard by any of the higher ups. Already vague rumors were beginning to spread that the Uchiha were involved in the Kyuubi attack. Several citizens were demanding that the entire clan be forced to move outside the village for Konoha's safety as a whole.

As the son of the man who was in charge of enforcing the very concept of safety, this was somewhat of a sore subject with Itachi, who knew his father would never have anything to do with such a violent invasion.

"It's not like I would ever disobey orders or anything because of it," Shisui mumbled, though from then on he was much more careful with his words.

oOo

"My name is Morino Itsuki, and I will be your Jounin Sensei until you are promoted or dead." The man before them smiled cheerfully, a strand of wheat between his teeth and a kasa on his head, tilted a little to cast his eyes into shadow.

Itachi's two new teammates glanced at one another dubiously at their Jounin-sensei's morbid introduction.

"State your names, and we will quickly move on."

"I'm Shin," an older boy with short cropped, grey hair and slanted black eyes grinned and nudged the girl next to him. She scowled at him and stood, jabbing a finger at herself.

"I'm Inuzuka Hana," she introduced herself almost challengingly, as if expecting some sort of refute. Her hair was dark brown, almost black, and her cheeks bore the fang-like markings reminiscent of her clan. She seemed almost surprised when neither boy scoffed at her, whether for her gender or her abrupt manner. She grinned a little and sat back down.

"Uchiha Itachi," Itachi answered next without being prompted.

"Excellent," Itsuki beamed, and it was not a friendly expression. "I won't tolerate any kidding around. Meet me tomorrow at 7 am sharp."

oOo

"Oi, Uchiha. You wanna spar till Sensei gets here?" Hana had her hands on her hips as she appraised the prodigy, her eyes narrowing when he shook his head. "What, too good for us _common_ ninja? Hmph. I'd like to see your clan do _half_ the tracking we can do."

"I don't like sparring." Itachi's quiet voice made Hana jump slightly. She scowled at him.

"The hell? What kind of ninja are you? How're you supposed to get good at fighting if you ain't gonna fight? Don't tell me it's cos I'm a girl. I'll beat your raggedy, sexist ass if that's why, you degenerate dick." She tensed up, clearly ready to make good on her words.

Itachi pulled a history book from his bag and opened it to the marked page. Shin's eyes went wide at Hana's choice of vocabulary and he gaped at her in awe for a moment.

"…will you teach me how to curse like that?" he asked after a pause. She shifted her glare to the grey eyed boy.

"I don't like fighting my teammates." Itachi's quiet voice cut through the lapse in conversation.

She sighed exasperatedly, glancing at Shin, but the grey haired boy said nothing, just shrugging, but still looking fascinated as to what Hana would say, or rather, how she would say it.

"It's not like were really gonna _hurt_ each other, y'know. You can't expect to live long if you're gonna be a wimp. Just because the war's over doesn't mean you can slack off, no matter how much the teachers liked you."

Itachi said nothing, and she rolled her eyes, blowing a strand of hair from her face.

"Well, whatever." She turned to Shin. "What about you, old man? Up to a spar?"

Shin huffed, looking mildly annoyed.

"My hair color is natural!"

"Yeah, yeah, _ossan,_ why don't you fight me and prove me wrong, eh?" She was impatiently bouncing back and forth on her heels. He scowled.

"Alright, then. Just try it."

Itachi felt a cold prickle, similar to the sensation he'd felt when the Kyuubi appeared.

"Glad to see you three getting along so well."

Shin and Hana whirled around to see Itsuki sitting on one of the trees, casually popping some dango in his mouth. Itachi's eyes widened when he realized that other than pure instinct, he hadn't sensed his Sensei's arrival at all.

"We'll be doing some warm up exercises, some teamwork practice, and if there's time, we'll go see about picking up our first mission."

oOo

Three hours later, Itachi was dripping with sweat along with his two teammates, his face flushed and his breath coming out in wheezing gasps. His vision warped a little before coming back, his knees shaking. He was in slightly better condition than the other two, only because of Koba-sensei's specialized training, but only just.

"Alright," Itsuki smiled sadistically. "Warmup done."

Their 'team exercises' ended at two o' clock, when Shin promptly passed out after trying with them to hoist a boulder into the air and get it across the training field.

"Looks like my poor cute Genin are tired out," Itsuki-sensei noted from under a tree, sipping at his iced drink casually. "I suppose you lot aren't strong enough yet to take on a mission." He frowned in mock sympathy. "Go home and rest. Don't be late tomorrow. Same time, same place."

Hana didn't even have the energy for a snarky retort. She pulled herself wearily to her feet, meeting Itachi's eyes and then glancing toward Shin. Itachi nodded and wordlessly pulled the boy's arm over his shoulder.

"Where does he live?" Itachi asked quietly. She pushed sweaty strands of hair from her face and let out a deep huff of air before sidling up on Shin's other side and taking half the weight.

"I'll show you, c'mon."

Behind them, Itsuki watched them leave together, arm in arm, and a small smile tugged at his lips as he took another slow sip of sake.

oOo

"Our sensei is crazy!" Hana was pacing back and forth in front of a wide eyed Shin and a wary Itachi. She stopped in between them, crossing her arms. "I mean, can you believe him?! Seven friggin' hours of straight _labor_ and he calls _us_ out of shape? I didn't see him get off his lazy arse and do any of those exercises with us! I mean, chin-ups over the cliff of a waterfall? For real? We should be learning real techniques and how to survive against enemy ninja, dammit!"

She whirled around and slammed her fist into the wooden railing of the bridge Shin was leaning against. The wood splintered and Shin lost his balance, toppling backwards with a yelp and splashing into the river.

"Geez, Hana-san," he mumbled, picking himself up and climbing back onto the bridge, bedraggled and dripping.

"Maybe we could work on techniques while we wait on him to get here," Itachi suggested quietly, glancing up from his book and hurriedly glancing back down when her fiery glare rested on him.

"What was that, Uchiha?!" she demanded, shaking her fist.

"M-maybe we could work on chakra control while we wait…" Itachi suggested slightly more feebly. "He always takes a while to get here, so perhaps we should take initiative. I've seen some of the ninja from my clan do different exercises that we could try."

"Without a supervisor?" Shin questioned dubiously. "I hear horror stories about kids messing with chakra too early."

Itachi seemed to ponder that for a moment.

"Most are simple enough that the risk is low. Besides, anything worth doing as a ninja is going to take some amount of risk. The only question is how we weigh the odds against each other. In my opinion, it would be worth it." There was a pause.

Both Hana and Shin were staring at him and he ducked his head, feeling his cheeks flood with color. Him and his big mouth. Now they were just going to see him as a know-it-all who couldn't keep his mouth shut. He wished Shisui had been put on his team. He would've known the right thing to say.

Then Hana sighed.

"Anything to get my mind off the hell we're about to go through," she muttered with a quiet groan, before plopping down cross legged on the ground across from Itachi. "So? What are these chakra exercises you've seen?"

Itachi raised his head, surprised, and for a moment his mouth moved without any sound coming out. Then he swallowed and tried again.

"Uhm, there's a lot. Maybe we could start with a leaf?"

Fifteen minutes later and they were trying to stick leaves to their foreheads, grinning at each other with the pure stupidity of the act and outright laughing when Shin thought he'd done it only to realize the leaf had caught in his hair.

"Stupid old man, can't even tell when a shitty leaf is glued with chakra," Hana chortled, and Shin's cheeks flushed.

"My hair is _naturally_ grey! I really think it _was_ glued there, too, not just caught in my hair. And at least I don't smell like wet dog," he retorted. She grinned.

"What's wrong with smelling like a dog, ossan?"

"Don't _call_ me that!"

Then Itachi felt that familiar prickling sensation and his head snapped around. Sure enough, Itsuki was squatting in a tree, eating an apple.

"Yo," he greeted them around a bite of apple. "I wonder if my cute Genin will be able to take on a mission today."

"Of course we will!" Hana shot to her feet. "Just bring it on, Sensei!"

And he certainly did.

They didn't have the energy for a mission that day, or the next, or the next.

But despite that, all three of them could use chakra to glue leaves to their foreheads, faces, or anywhere else on their bodies. They had started testing it by randomly placing leaves on each other and seeing if the other person could hold it there.

"Now what?" Hana asked, during their second week of training. "We know this exercise inside and out, and I don't care about any damn risk as long as we can do something else. You seen anything else 'round the Compound, Uchiha?"

Itachi glanced up with a small frown. In all honesty, he had known how to do the leaf sticking exercise after his first month in the Academy, having had to practice extremely young to build up his chakra reserves for the Great Fireball Technique.

What was something he didn't know how to do? Something that would actually benefit all of them?

"We can try sticking ourselves to things," he said. "Similar to the leaf, but acting _as_ the leaf."

"How would that help anything?" Shin asked, his brow furrowing.

"I get it! That's not a bad idea, even for an Uchiha," Hana grinned, revealing her sharp canines. "If we can stick to stuff, we can walk on _anything,_ including sideways and upside down, right?" Her grin turned a little feral.

"Then we can see the look on Sensei's face when we can run up those mountains without even using our _hands."_

"We can finish our exercises in half the time, too," Shin murmured, starting to get it. "So it's the same kind of thing, right? Just some more chakra."

Itachi nodded.

"Let's try it together," he suggested, closing his book and standing with a slight sense of authority he wasn't sure why he possessed.

Three days later, they were progressively using 'cliff-walking' to shorten the sheer work of climbing up the mountains, and halfway through the week, finished their team exercises grimy and sweaty, but still conscious and not completely exhausted.

Itsuki raised an eyebrow when no one so much as sat down after the final lap around Konoha.

"What's this? Have my Genin been cheating?"

"Of course not, Sensei!" Shin protested, still breathing heavily but standing straight. "We're ready for a mission. We're ninja!"

Itsuki stared at each of them, his gaze pausing on Itachi, who stared back coolly, giving away nothing.

"And how is it that my Genin have improved so much after only twelve days, hm?"

"That's cuz we ain't lazy, alcoholic old men," Hana muttered, before glancing to the side at Shin. "Well, we ain't lazy alcoholics, at least."

She smirked as Shin stamped the ground.

"I'm barely older than you are, Hana-san!"

Itachi didn't break gazes with their sensei.

"Well?" he asked quietly. "Will we be assigned a mission?"

Hana and Shin quieted almost immediately, returning their attention to Itsuki.

He took a slow drink from his bottle before sighing in satisfaction and pulling himself to his feet.

"Ah, I guess my cute Genin are starting to grow up. Go change into clean uniforms and meet me at the Hokage Tower in fifteen minutes. It's rude to see the Hokage as dirty and sweaty as you three are."

He disappeared in swirl of leaves and Hana crossed her arms.

"And whose fault is it that we're all dirty and sweaty?" She huffed, but her eyes were sparkling with suppressed excitement at the prospect of their first mission. "See you guys there!" She waved and ran off, leaving them to follow.

"See you soon, Itachi-san," Shin smiled and Itachi nodded in response, feeling his cheeks color slightly. Was this what it was like to have friends?

oOo

"You're kidding me."

Despite the difficult position Konoha was in politically, it seemed D-rank missions were still in abundance, and the three of them had just been assigned to deliver mail for the local mailman in the 1st district because he was sick and unable to do so himself.

"I heard that the first missions of Genin were easier than most, but I didn't think they would be so…" Itachi trailed off, not quite able to find the right word.

"Stupid?" Shin guessed, grinning.

"Mundane," his teammate deadpanned. Shin shrugged.

"Well whatever. I mean, gotta start somewhere." They each were holding a large stack of papers, and Itsuki had mysteriously and conveniently vanished as soon as they had left the Tower.

"Hey, hey," Hana grinned widely. "You think if we finish these missions super-fast and do, like, three a day, we'll get promoted faster?"

Itachi frowned.

"As long as we don't trade speed for efficiency. And though we may be permitted to complete higher ranking missions, the main way of promotion is through an official examination that has to be approved by our Sensei. I don't know very much about the Chuunin Examinations, though."

"Hmm. Well I bet this'll go a ton faster if we put our minds to it. Wanna race? Loser pays for dinner at Moritake's."

Shin grinned.

"Fine, but if I win, you gotta stop calling me old man, too."

"You wish, ossan," she snarked back. He scowled.

"We can meet in front of the Tower when we're done," Shin tensed, pooling chakra into his feet. "Go!"

They took off in a heartbeat, and Itachi found himself alone almost instantly. He blinked the dust out of his eyes from where it had clouded, and felt that strange prickly sensation once more. He turned, his gaze moving to the roof, but it was empty.

Even so, he got the strangest feeling that he was being watched by Itsuki. He'd begun to grow accustomed to the instinctive sensation. He was beginning to be able to discern who was there through the odd feeling, though only with people he was familiar with, such as Shisui and his teammates.

He hopped to the nearest roof, deciding to ponder it later and complete his mission before his pocket change suffered for it.

"No fair!" Shin protested with a groan. "My last delivery was to a lady with this giant guard dog and I swear I wasn't doing anything wrong, but… agh!" He huffed and glared at Hana, who grinned cheekily at him.

"If it makes you feel better, three of my deliveries had dogs at home, too."

"It's different when you can understand dogs, _Inuzuka!_ Help me out here, Itachi-san! _"_ He turned to Itachi, who smiled weakly, scratching his head.

"Maybe we can eat somewhere less expensive?" he suggested with a small smile.

"Alright, let's go to Keyaki's then. Yakimono sounds great right now." The two walked down the street, Shin still grumbling, before Hana stopped and turned.

"You coming, Uchiha?" she asked, and he blinked, slightly startled, before nodding with a small smile.

"Mhm!"

oOo

"It's almost unbelievable, Ibiki," Itsuki glanced at his older brother with a small frown, his elbows on the table with his chin resting on his hands. "Barely two days in and you think they'd be complaining, right?"

Ibiki just watched him, waiting for him to finish.

"But no, instead the Uchiha got them practicing chakra control before training so now they can apply it to the exercises. When we got put through those exercises as Genin we nearly quit as shinobi by day three, and we were twelve. Itachi's seven, so's Hana-chan, and Shin is just barely nine."

"You have to remember that these children were introduced to the shinobi system when the war began, Itsuki," Ibiki told him, sitting across from him at the table. "They were being prepared in case the war was long lasting."

"They're still ambitious as hell," Itsuki muttered. "And Itachi could lead armies if he could get past that shyness. Didn't think I'd meet a humble Uchiha in my lifetime, and yet here's one dropped into my lap. It's like he doesn't even know he's a genius."

"Or he doesn't like the fact and chooses not to acknowledge it," Ibiki countered. "How lonely it must be, to be a lone prodigy?"

"Ah, there you go with your philosophies again," Itsuki sighed. "That boy senses me, too. He warns his teammates when I'm close or just arriving. Kid's a natural sensor. Hana-chan would too, if I ever came with the wind, and Shin's chakra control is better than I've seen in a kid his age in years."

"A sensor, a tracker, and a medic in the making," Ibiki chuckled. "You've certainly got your hands full."

"Yeah," Itsuki agreed slowly. "But I'm glad. I look at some of the other Genin teams they've made this year and half of 'em still think they're playing ninja." He shook his head in exasperation. "Day one, my kids have just been shoved on the same team together and they're already carrying each other's weight. It's like they don't even pause to consider leaving a friend behind. These kids got some raw potential, it's just gotta be molded right."

"Well, if you have recognized it, then surely you are the one to do just that," Ibiki smirked slightly. "Don't let them surpass you too quickly."

"Oi, oi, you're talking to a legend in the field of Interrogation." Itsuki looked mildly offended.

"Good luck, brother."

"Ah," Itsuki nodded and grinned. "You might consider taking a Genin team sometime. Might change your view of some things."

The younger brother snorted, but said nothing, only standing and ruffling Itsuki's hair fondly as he exited the room.

oOo

"Team Itsuki," Sarutobi Hiruzen stared down his pipe at the four people in his office. "You have successfully completed D-rank missions for three weeks now, at an average of two or three per day, with reports of only complete success. For that I commend you. Good work."

The three of them stood a little straighter at the praise, and Itsuki allowed a small smile to creep up his face. This didn't go unnoticed by the Hokage, whose eyes twinkled as he continued.

"In order to test your teamwork as a whole and to give you more experience in the field, I have decided to offer you a C-rank mission, should you choose to accept it."

His gaze moved to Itsuki, clarifying that it would ultimately be their sensei's decision as to whether or not they were ready. The man nodded a back, a quirky grin toying with his lips. Hana remained respectfully silent, but an anticipatory smile curled at her lips.

"This mission is to clean up the Namikaze Compound near the outskirts of Konoha. It was heavily damaged in the Kyuubi Incident and traces of poisonous chakra are lingering in the area. Your mission is to remove the toxic chakra from the area and demolish the Compound so that it can be rebuilt. Any questions so far?"

"Um…" Hana stepped forward tentatively, a bit hesitant in the presence of the Hokage. "Where is the Namikaze Clan staying?"

"They are taking temporary shelter in an evacuation center. Time is of the essence. Will you accept?" The old man leaned back, his hands folded in front of him.

Hana and Shin nodded at each other, and then both nodded at Itachi. He returned the gesture and faced the Hokage.

"We accept, Hokage-sama. It would be our honor."

The man nodded seriously, but his expression hinted at amusement, sensing their enthusiasm.

"Good," he replied, setting a scroll on his desk. Itsuki stepped forward and picked it up, before tossing it to Itachi. The Uchiha caught it, surprised.

"Let's go," Itsuki barked, striding toward the door. Sarutobi nodded at the Genin's inquisitive glances.

"Yes, you are dismissed. I expect to receive your reports as soon as your mission is complete. Good luck."

oOo

"Horrible…" Hana whispered, a hand covering her mouth and nose.

Shin looked a little green himself, and Itachi glanced at their sensei, but Itsuki appeared stoic and calm as always, if a little stern.

Bodies littered the rubble around them, some trapped under wreckage and others mangled and torn around the trees. A sickly orange hue seemed to settle in some of the piles of rubble, nearly visible chakra hanging in the air from the Kyuubi Incident.

Itachi swallowed, trying to find his voice.

"What do we do with the… victims?" he managed to choke out, his eyes lingering on a young woman curled up beneath a fallen beam, her eyes wide and staring.

"As I guessed, you three haven't done any of the clean-up assignments assigned after the Kyuubi attack," Itsuki noted quietly. The very air seemed still there, and it reeked of death. "Take these."

He tossed each of them a handful of small scrolls.

"Storage seals?" Itachi questioned, when he recognized the pattern printed on the paper.

"Very good," Itsuki nodded his approval. "Store the bodies, and then mark it with the kanji for 'corpse' in black ink. I will take care of handing them in to the morgue when your mission is complete."

Itachi nodded mutely, and Hana turned away, her eyes watering. Whether from the stench or from the sight, he couldn't tell. Her senses were much sharper than theirs.

Itachi had run from Konoha when the Kyuubi had attacked. His own compound was nowhere near the attack and still he had run farther. Like a coward.

 _For Sasuke,_ he reminded himself firmly. It was one thing to hear about the devastation the attack had caused. It was quite another to see it with his own eyes. A fist seemed to tighten in his gut, and he found his jaw clenched so tight his teeth began to ache.

"Let's get to work," he spat through his teeth, and they moved robotically to complete their mission. The C rank mission suddenly didn't seem so exciting. There was a section of Konoha's surrounding wall that had crumbled, and Itsuki would be standing guard there and ensuring no unauthorized personnel entered the village while they completed their mission.

It was slow work without definitive jutsus to complete their task. Itachi's Great Fireball would only increase the danger and make a mess, not to mention the smell of burning corpses… he cut off that train of thought hastily. Hana had to tie her hitai-ite like a handkerchief around her mouth and nose to ward off the stench, and none of her tracking specialties would help here. Being able to walk on all flat surfaces helped in some occasions, such as accessing the difficult to reach beams and fallen wreckage, but the work was still hard and slow.

"What are you doing to our home?"

A small voice penetrated the silence and the three Genin's heads whipped around. A small boy with spiky blond hair swept to one side and bright blue eyes flinched as their attention immediately shifted to him. He stumbled back a step, and visibly swallowed.

"That's our Compound," he continued, his voice bordering on desperate. "That was Minato-sama's home, you can't just destroy it!"

Itachi exchanged a glance with his team before calmly walking down the beam he was perched on and approaching the boy. They wordlessly continued working.

"They're going to build you a new Compound," he told the boy seriously, trying to keep his voice gentle. "The bad fox broke your old one, right?"

"But you can't!" the boy protested. "Mama's sleeping there! Nanna said so! You can't take it away, it's our home! It's okay if it's broken," the boy's fingers curled into fists as fat tears welled up in his eyes and rolled down his cheeks. "We can fix it," he sobbed. "We can!"

"It's dangerous here right now," Itachi crouched down so that he was face to face with the boy. "We'll make sure not to hurt anyone who's sleeping, alright? You can come back as soon as it's safe, understand?"

The boy furiously scrubbed at his eyes and nodded, still sniffling.

"I guess," he whimpered, before peering around Itachi at the remains of his home.

"Go on back, now," Itachi urged him sternly, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. The boy nodded, lower lip still trembling, and ran away without another word.

The other two said nothing as Itachi returned, their expressions grim, and he was grateful, because he wasn't sure he could stomach friendly banter while purifying the air of toxic chakra and disposing of corpses that included a homeless little boy's mother.

Itachi went home to the Compound grimy and tired, his thoughts filtering themselves in order of priority. The fact that a shower was just below Sasuke and well above the atrocities of the day's mission said something about his state.

He was dismayed to see the Compound in a rapid flurry of activity when he arrived, with several people exiting the gates with bags and luggage in hand. He saw Shisui standing with his arms crossed to one side and caught the older boy's eye.

Shisui grimaced and walked over to him, leaning close to murmur toward him in a low voice.

"They're moving the Compound to the outskirts of the village," he muttered, his anger barely concealed. "It was the Council's decision. Apparently Sandaime-sama was against it, but he was outvoted." Shisui snorted in contempt.

"Why?" Itachi demanded, forcing himself to lower his voice. It was unacceptable for the clan head's eldest son to be seen losing his temper, but with the day's mission, his patience was running thin.

"You know why," Shisui answered shortly, his usually bright eyes hard and cold. White hot anger flashed across Itachi's eyes, sharp and fierce.

"They have no concrete evidence that we had _anything_ to do with the Kyuu—!"

"Shh!" Shisui glared hard at his best friend. "If we protest, we look guilty and suspicious of treason. You're the one who taught me that, Itachi."

Itachi closed his mouth, expression locked into a scowl of rare anger.

"I'm going to speak to the Hokage," he said shortly, his voice smoothing out evenly until it sounded polite as ever. Shisui was not fooled.

"Don't be rash. Even if you go, you have to let your father know before you do. He'll be furious if you do anything uncalled for—"

"As the Clan Heir," Itachi interrupted stiffly, "And as a citizen of Konoha, I will approach the subject of our forced _relocation_ as a representative of the Uchiha due to my father's absence. Do you see my father anywhere, Shisui?"

Shisui's eyes widened before narrowing.

"That's a dangerous game you're playing, Itachi. Fugaku-sama is inside with Mikoto-sa—"

" _Do you see my father anywhere?"_ Itachi spat through his teeth. He had spent a day demolishing the home of a motherless little boy and he was not in the mood to see another home ripped away from their family. _His own family._

Shisui stared at him a moment before letting out a low, impressed whistle.

"Hell, Itachi, seven years and you finally found your rebellious streak, eh?" His grin turned a little remorseful. "If only you'd woken up that side of you when I played pranks on Sensei in the Academy. I hope you know what you're getting us into. Fugaku-sama ain't gonna be happy."

Itachi blinked at the plural pronoun.

"Shisui, you don't have to—"

"Oi, oi," Shisui interrupted him, slinging a casual arm over his shoulder. "What are best friends for? If you're going to break the rules for once, I sure as hell want to be there to see it. The perfect prodigy Uchiha Itachi has a rebellious streak? I'd rather die than miss it." He winked at Itachi and his best friend smiled sheepishly, before pushing him off.

"Come on, then. We shouldn't keep the Hokage waiting."

oOo

"Uchiha Itachi and Uchiha Shisui," the guard at the Tower stared down at them before jerking his head toward the door. "The Hokage has been expecting you."

Shisui and Itachi glanced at each other before entering the Tower wordlessly. Itachi wasn't sure whether the Chuunin was being honest, but he had more pressing concerns to worry about. He knocked on the door of the Hokage's office and waited. After a moment, a weary voice answered.

"Enter."

The man before Itachi seemed to have aged ten years in the few hours since he had seen him to accept his first C-rank mission. His shoulders seemed stooped, the lines of his face etched deeper into his skin. His pipe rested unlit on a small tray at the corner of his desk.

Itachi did not bat an eye. He knew looks could be deceiving, and just as the Sandaime had transformed into an unshakeable warrior during the Kyuubi Incident, so could he appear a weary old man to garner sympathy. Such harmless tricks were not uncommon in positions of political power.

"Ah, Uchiha Itachi," Sarutobi sighed, folding his hands across the top of his desk. "I have expected you." His gaze turned to Shisui and his eyes sharpened slightly. "I see you have not come alone. I assume this isn't to do with the report you handed in to me earlier today, which was extremely well written, I might add."

Itachi kept his expression blank, ignoring the praise as he had the countless others his superiors gave him.

"I would like to know the reason behind the relocation of the Uchiha Compound," he stated bluntly, and Shisui cast him a sideways glance at his forwardness.

"As would I," Sarutobi muttered somewhat bitterly before addressing Itachi. "If only a Hokage had the power everyone believes him to have. Do you know the way our government is organized, Itachi-san?" he asked calmly.

Itachi's eyes sharpened.

"It most closely resembles a parliamentary monarchy with feudal lords serving in the highest position and the village led by a Council which shares power, though the Hokage can overrule certain circumstances," Itachi stared the Hokage directly in the eye. "However, if this is a point to emphasize the fact that the Hokage does not have complete jurisdiction over the decisions of the Council, I suggest you do not waste your time educating me on petty politics." Shisui blinked, skillfully hiding his shock as he cast a sidelong glance at his best friend. Itachi was dancing a thin line.

"Oh?" Sarutobi raised an eyebrow.

Itachi took a deep breath before continuing. "Clearly we don't live under a dictatorship in which the Hokage can overrule a Council's decision, however, I wonder how much power this alleged Council should be allowed to possess if they can forcibly remove an entire clan to the outskirts of a village without the Hokage's consent. Hokage-sama, with no undue disrespect intended, I am not concerned with the division of power among you and your colleagues. My question is this, and only this; what is the reason we are being relocated? We have done nothing but protect the citizens of Konoha with our police force and several of our clan have perished to protect this village. _Why must we move_?"

There was a silence. Both the Hokage and Shisui stared at Itachi, the latter open-mouthed and gaping. Sarutobi wasn't sure whether he was more appalled at the fact that his very own doubts had been voiced into the air or the fact that they had come from the mouth of a seven year old.

"Itachi!" Shisui rounded on his best friend, his eyes wide with… fear? Itachi knew exactly how close to treason his words had come and he also knew that from the mouth of an Uchiha, the Council could use his words as evidence to support what little they already had to further accuse his clan. His words were a statement of his trust that the Hokage was different, and that he would answer honestly without accusing him as his colleagues would in his stead. All three of them were aware of this, but Shisui didn't have the confidence in their Hokage that Itachi did. In his eyes, the risk was nowhere near that great. Not just to move locations.

Of course, Shisui hadn't sent a little boy running crying from his demolished home, away from the corpse of his dead mother. Itachi closed his eyes, trying to rid himself of the image.

Sarutobi found himself searching for another answer, his original words concerning his limited power already taken from his mouth and used against him by a seven year old. These child prodigies grew ever more concerning year to year. He would have to carefully balance clan relations and the proper educating of these two to ensure they remained loyal to Konoha. Kami help him if children this smart grew up to be missing nin.

But he was getting ahead of himself. He cleared his throat.

"Before I answer your question, Itachi-san, and answer it I will, I assure you, may I ask on whose authority you are here?"

Both Itachi and Shisui stiffened, confirming his speculations.

"I'm here as a citizen of Konoha and a representative of my clan on my father's behalf," Itachi answered carefully, his expression innocently blank. Shisui mirrored him, his expression just slightly _too_ innocent.

"Because your father is… incapacitated? Or simply out of your line of sight?" A small, humorless smile touched Sarutobi's lips before he continued when neither answered.

"I admire your tenacity and loyalty to your clan, but understand that such actions will not be taken so lightly in the future. You are a prime role model to your people, Itachi-san. It would not do well for your little cousins and sibling to emulate your actions. Proper procedure keeps order and maintains balance. I know you understand that."

Itachi nodded, and Shisui looked slightly ashamed, but didn't lower his head.

(Years later, when a certain orange clad Genin often burst through his window at any given moment, Sarutobi would look back on this time and wonder when such order ceased to exist.)

"That aside, you make a valid point, and it has earned my honesty. I will speak to Fugaku-san and reassure him that there were no… misconceptions… regarding your behavior that he should concern himself with."

Itachi's expression didn't change, but a tiny amount of tension bled from his posture. He was relieved. Upholding a clan's honor while withholding one's own morals could not be easy, Sarutobi mused, feeling a twinge of sympathy for the young boy.

"Your answer about our government was textbook perfect, but you should understand that the citizens of Konoha have a large say as well. A King whose people refuse to follow him is no King at all," he began with a quiet sigh. "The rumors of how the Kyuubi could have been controlled run rampant through Konoha. The only conceivable answer at this point is that it was through the Sharingan, the very same ocular ability that only your clan and Hatake Kakashi possess."

Itachi did not interrupt, waiting for him to finish.

"When a government gives power to the people, it also gives them power to make idiotic choices. Families who experienced the terror of the attack want to feel safe in their homes. They hide their children and raise them to protect themselves, fearful of letting them play on the streets because they aren't sure which people they can trust. Anyone and their uncle's cousin could be responsible for the attack. All that fear requires an outlet, and the first outlet, though I doubt it will be the last, is one of the most powerful clans, strong enough to protect Konoha since its founding, yes, but also strong enough to do unspeakable evils. It is no longer a matter of if the Uchiha had anything to do with the Kyuubi incident. It has now become the fact that the Uchiha _can."_

Itachi's eyes widened as he began to realize what the Hokage was saying.

"In their hearts, I'm sure the people love the police force and everything they have done to keep their homes safe for all these years, but they are blinded by fear. Though they know they should not blame their neighbors, all they can see are a clan with ocular abilities so powerful they are capable of devastating destruction. Rather than see that as a source of pride and strength that can be used against our enemies, they see it as a threat to their children. Your clan of course suffered heavy losses as well, but as a whole, Konoha lost more than just their sense of safety. Namikaze Minato was a light that shone in the dark, and the loss of our leader cast a very heavy shadow."

Itachi nodded slowly, his expression now thoughtful, and Sarutobi tried not to be too impressed with the boy's scope of understanding. If only the Councilcould take opposing arguments into consideration as this boy did, perhaps they would agree to his suggestion of integrating the Uchiha into the areas directly around the Tower so that the people would see their shinobi working closely with the Uchiha and improve relations… but alas, it wasn't to be. Those old bats were getting too used to having things their way.

Sarutobi sighed. He missed the days when he had laughed at Minato for having to deal with them.

" _I knew there was a reason you gave me this job so easily, Sandaime-sama, there had to be a catch."_

" _Ah, Minato, they aren't so bad. On the weekends they'll only try to pass policies behind your back if the Bingo centers are closed."_

" _And the paperwork! Piles and piles of—Bingo centers? Are you serious?"_

 _The third chuckled._

" _I'm off to enjoy my retirement! See you at the onsen… eh, maybe when all your work is done?"_

" _Oi, oi, Sandaime-sama, you can't just leave me here, Kushina said I had to be home by nine tonight!"_

" _Then you'd better work quickly, Minato-kun~!"_

 _He left the Fourth Hokage sweating bullets at the thought of missing his wife's curfew with a bounce in his step._

"So the relocation is to appease the citizens, who truly hold the power of the village," Shisui summed up quietly, and Itachi frowned.

"So there is no king," he interjected, staring at Sarutobi. "Or rather, the people are the king."

"Ah, that's where you're mistaken, Itachi-san," Sarutobi leaned forward, and this time Itachi did not doubt the weariness in the man's eyes. " _You_ are the king. The children who will fill our places and lead the village to the best of _your_ ability."

Itachi stared at him.

"But until the children replace their predecessors, they can do nothing but follow orders, whether sent to the front lines, holding the border, or demolishing homes and disposing of corpses so that the village can be rebuilt." The last few words he uttered softly, and Sarutobi heard the pain behind them. It caused a deep ache in his chest. "The children are dogs to their masters, and are only the king in the sense that adults protect them to grow as such."

"Not here, Itachi-san," Sarutobi's voice was sharp and reprimanding. "If that were true, you would be cut down where you stand for questioning my authority and blatantly disregarding our policies. In Bloody Mist or Grass, perhaps, the children are dogs, but here, no. The founders of this village worked very hard to ensure that our children would be protected and raised to think for themselves. That is why you are here, and why you are given a choice. Is that clear?"

There was a note of finality and authority in the Third's voice.

"Yes, Sir," Itachi retreated quickly, aware that he had crossed a line.

"I hope you have received the answers you came for," the dismissal was clear in the old man's voice, ringing nearly as prominent as the exhaustion.

"Yes, Sandaime-sama," Shisui replied this time, slightly quickly, as if afraid Itachi would object. "Thank you for your time." He bowed, and Itachi slowly mirrored him, before they excused themselves and walked back to the Compound to gather their belongings and move to the outskirts of the village.

"Holy hell, Itachi!" Shisui exploded once they were alone in his room. "You sure know how to push the line! Sandaime-sama was right, in Kiri they'd cut you down after you went all 'do not educate me in petty politics' on him!"

"What would you prefer I do?" the boy asked in return. "We went there to get answers, and you know full well he would have only told us it wasn't his choice if I didn't clarify."

Shisui's expression was one of grudging respect as he pulled his pack onto his back.

"Yeah, I get it, but damn, only you could pull off that kind of traitor talk and sound completely polite and rational about it."

"It wasn't 'traitor talk'," Itachi answered, mildly offended. "My mission today was to demolish the Namikaze Compound after it was destroyed in the Kyuubi attack. Maybe I simply didn't want to see another Clan's home torn away from them."

Shisui went quiet.

"That's why, then?" he asked softly. Itachi didn't answer, only turning to leave. Shisui frowned at his back, but followed him out the door to the main house so that Itachi could gather his own belongings. "You care too much for your own good, Itachi. Prodigy of shinobi arts or not, sometimes I wonder if being a ninja is really best for you."

Itachi already knew it wasn't, and that caring too much would likely be his downfall, so he gathered his things in silence and chose not to reply.

oOo

 **A/N:** _ **Well.**_ **This is going to be fun. Here we see wimpy little Itachi before he becomes his badass self, and a little background. No huge surprises, mostly just skimming over canon history before I blow it up. Next chapter we'll see another side of the war, and a little more set up before the plot takes off.**

 **No beta yet, so all mistakes are on me. Feel free to offer comments, likes & dislikes, and I'd like to shower anyone who offers constructive criticism with hugs and nice things because I eat that stuff up. **

**Happy Reading!**

 **Disclaimer: This applies to every chapter in this story, but I don't own Naruto.**


	2. Collateral Damage

Chapter 2 – Collateral Damage

oOo

The dark haired girl grabbed at her mother's face with her too-small hands, pudgy fingers getting caught on strands of thick brown hair that so resembled her own. Her mother laughed and then winced when the girl tugged a strand of hair a little too sharply.

"What shall we have for supper, love?" her mother picked up the gurgling two year old and settled the girl on her hip while moving around the kitchen with the practiced ease only a mother possessed.

"Noodles? Stew? Maybe some fish? The war cut back on imports, but even those nasty, mean, scary ninja can't keep us from enjoying fishing season!" She attacked her little girl with kisses and tickles and the toddler squealed in delight, her pale purple eyes going wide.

"No-o!" she squirmed in her mother's grip, trying to escape the offending fingers that forced her to laugh regardless of her own opinion on the matter. "Ice cream!"

Her mother paused, blinking.

"Ice cream?" she questioned, a finger going to her lips. "I know times aren't perfect, love, but things aren't so bad that we get to have only sweets for dessert!"

Her daughter frowned, pink lips forming a pout as she stared at her mother with wide, pleading eyes. It was too adorable to bear, and her mother visibly struggled beneath it, her eyes closing in weak effort to resist.

"M-maybe we can get ice cream at the Market tomorrow," she tried to bargain, and her daughter's hands tugged on her mother's sleeve.

"Now," she insisted, lower lip trembling.

The front door opening and closing broke the spell, and her mother whirled in a circle with new resolve. Her daughter's pout became genuine as the practiced expression faded away.

"Daddy's home!" her mother exclaimed happily. "How's that for perfect timing, eh?"

"Where are my two favorite women in the world?" a deep voice called from the hallway.

"In the kitchen, love!" her mother called brightly, nuzzling her daughter's face until the little girl's pout erupted into giggles.

The woman mock gasped.

" _I_ know," she suggested brightly. "How about we make Daddybuy us _both_ ice cream? We can all go together after dinner!"

Her daughter brightened immediately, her head whipping around and zeroing in on her father with impressive intensity.

"Daddy!" she greeted him, and he answered her open arms with a growl of affection, swiping her from her mother and depositing the two year old on his shoulders while shooting a poisonous look at his wife.

" _Very_ funny, dear," he rolled his eyes and swooped down to kiss her on the cheek while she hummed contentedly.

"That's what you get for coming home so late," she scolded, only half joking as she turned back to get out a few sparse ingredients. Her husband had been out ever later into the night as time went on, and he was in for quite a scolding if she caught so much as a whiff of alcohol on him. Dinner was short and sweet, and the little girl was sent to bed happy and distracted from sweets as her parents went to bed hungry once more.

Months slowly passed, and goods grew sparse. Merchants and customers could and would haggle for hours before settling on a price. Crime rates went up in tandem with the number of thieves and robbers desperate to feed their families, and the little girl spent her happy days blissfully ignorant of the state of her home settlement worsening around her.

Even if she knew, she probably wouldn't have cared, because her Daddy still swept her up in the air and let her sit on his shoulders, and Mama still carried her around on her hip, although her hips were a little bit bonier these days, and her dinner portions grew smaller, but never enough to give her tummy aches at night, and maybe they were at war, but she was still happy, so life was okay. Life was even good.

Until… it wasn't.

The girl woke with a start, aroused by something that wasn't a part of her dreams. She glanced around her room warily, the pleasant dream-like memory of her younger days fading away. What had woken her? She was three now, ( _three_!) so she could sleep in a bed all by herself, a fact that she held no small amount of pride for. She sat up slowly, her large eyes turning to glance out the window of her bedroom. She watched a tall figure emerge from her house, wearing his nice shoes and dark clothes.

She blinked slowly, clearing the last bits of drowsiness away in that way children always could at the prospect of something exciting, and squinted hard at the figure. Her lips pressed against the glass of the window, a round patch fogging up as her red lips formed a little circle against its cool surface. She was tempted to draw in the misted portion of the window, easily distracted by such fun things, but resisted when she recognized the tall man with his grown-up clothes and the slightly uneven gait.

What was Daddy doing leaving the house so late? And why was he going toward the glowing red lights that gleamed from a few streets in the West District? She'd been warned never to go that way when she was exploring, but that didn't mean much, because she wasn't allowed in the attic either, and grown-ups were allowed in _there._ Not that she was pouting about it. She was a big girl now. She _didn't_ pout. (Not even a little.)

She wondered if she should go follow him and tell him to take her on an adventure with her, but then decided, no, she should stay in bed. She was big now, almost like Mama, and it was her first time sleeping alone in her own room. There was no point in messing any of it up by risking getting in trouble. Nodding to herself, because that was a very astute and mature decision if she thought so herself (which she did), and drew a squiggle in the mist on the window before turning back away from her dad and his grown-up business.

She walked back to her bed with a yawn, and had just placed her knee on the mattress when a flickering glow caught her eye from outside. Her head turned slowly, just in time to see a shattering bright light flicker before a resounding eruption exploded outside the window.

She shrieked as the walls of the house caved inwards, fire enveloping the modest building in huge red flames in the span of a moment. She slammed into the door of her room as beams toppled, shrapnel flying as the smell of smoke filled her nostrils and throat.

The ground shuddered, the crackling of flames growing louder and louder, and the girl whimpered in between coughing fits, trapped underneath the rubble. She touched her head and her fingers came away sticky with warm blood, something she was shocked to see. An earth shattering roar rattled the windows and doors before a smothering wall of energy seemed to slam into the house and shake it from its foundation. She gaped, more in awe than afraid, because this blanket of energy was _strong,_ but it wasn't angry. It was… desperate. It was a feeling she'd never felt before, but it was a feeling she heard in the voice of Mama from outside her bedroom. Not anger, but fear.

" _Baby, where are you?! Are you hurt?!"_ Her mother's frantic shrieks scared her more than the explosion and she found herself shocked into silence, her eyes wide and a warm red liquid sliding down her temple and dripping from her chin. She wasn't sure why she didn't cry. Maybe it was proof that she really _was_ a big girl now. But more, she just wasn't very scared. Her head hurt a little, but she was still in awe of that energy, so heavy, so thick, and so very desperate for escape. It smothered her, pressing against her chest and slowing her thoughts like a heavy, sluggish blanket.

"Mama?" she blurted, once the coughing subsided and she could breathe properly again. She didn't understand what the flashes of bright color meant and had no idea what was going on. Was this the 'war' concept her mother always referenced before spoiling her with treats? Excitement rushed through her. Did this mean she was about to get ice cream? Or was it a new game? She found herself smiling in anticipation, her heart jumping with excitement. A part of the ceiling collapsed and she heard her mother scream before the sound was cut off by a gurgle.

"Mama!" she repeated, recognizing the sound. She wasn't sure whether she was supposed to be excited or afraid, but the prospect of a reward won out over her fear. She wriggled her way free from the rubble and crawled across the floor toward the corner the sound had come from. She found her mother lying supine on the ground, her back arched awkwardly over a mound of rubble she rested upon, that may at one time have been their wooden coffee table. Now it was impossible to tell. A large beam impaled the woman's stomach through its center, and a puddle of red slowly spread from beneath her across the floor.

"Mama, what's the new game?" she asked excitedly, taking her mother's hand and tugging on it. "Let's play, Mama!" She knew that the red pool was a sign of hurt, because she had hurt her head, but it was just a little hurt, and now it was just warm and pounding a little, so her mother must be feeling very warm and pounding, just like her. Was this the costume they had to wear for the game? Red streaks and spots? She did love messy crafts the best.

Her mother's head slowly turned toward the sound of her voice, frothy blood seeping from the corner of her mouth. Her eyes feverishly locked on her daughter's face, speckled with dark red.

"Oh, baby," her mother whispered, before descending into a coughing fit of expelled blood. "Baby, I'm so sorry." Her hand squeezed her daughter's, and the girl's eyes lit up, her smile widening, even as tears leaked from her mother's eyes.

"That's okay, Mama, I'm a big girl! We can play tomorrow if you're sleepy!" She should be understanding. It was very late, after all. Past both of their bedtimes.

Her mother's face crumpled into equal parts happiness and despair.

"That's right, love. We'll play tomorrow. Mommy's sleepy, but you just keep smiling okay?" Her voice began to gurgle as her throat filled with blood.

"That's it, baby," she whispered as her daughter giggled, her white teeth contrasting with the dark red blood on her face. "There's that pretty smile I love."

That was where her father found her, hours later, when he finally returned, tired and dirty with soot, and above all else, afraid. She was smiling and clapping her hands together, fingers sticky with blood that didn't belong to her. His wife lay at her side, her body mangled and broken, half of her face burned almost beyond recognition.

His daughter let out a squeal of laughter, reaching out to her mother's body.

"Mama! Let's play now! Daddy's here, he's back!" She let her arm flop against her mother's shoulder, speckles of blood decorating her tanned cheeks as her hands splashed in the pooling blood. Her father roughly grabbed her and jerked her away from the corpse's side, his eyes shadowed. Pain and loss bloomed in his gut.

"No!" he snarled, ripping her hands away from his wife. "Bad girl!"

Her eyes went wide, her mouth puckering, and he had to look away from the child who had smiled like some sort of demon at the side of her dead mother. Tears welled up in her eyes. What had she done wrong? Should she have gone back to bed? How could she when rubble and broken beams blocked the way? Why was Daddy so angry? Why was he looking at her like that? She didn't like the way his face twisted and his eyes got so cold.

"Come," he ordered in a quiet voice, slightly gentler after realizing he had scared her. Not a demon, he corrected himself. Just his innocent daughter. He should count it as a blessing that she didn't understand. "We're going away."

oOo

It didn't matter whether she was naïve, as it turned out. As soon as she was old enough to understand, that memory haunted her as it would for the rest of her life. She followed her father obediently, masking her revulsion with smiles as her mother's last words echoed in her head.

 _There's that pretty smile I love._

It had only taken her a year to realize the truth of what happened, and that her mother was gone, not coming back, and that she had lied. She was just sleepy, her mother had said. Not being stolen away by the cold clutches of death. Not breathing her last. Not leaving her only daughter motherless. The girl knew she shouldn't have learned the truth so soon, shouldn't have understood what was going on at the age of four, but she attributed her sudden increase in maturity to her father's decisions after that terrible, terrible night.

The district he lingered in, and the sort of people he spent his time with, taught her much about the darkness of Kusagakure, and taught her much about the true meaning of death and fear, lust and money. Things she should not have known, she was taught, because she could do nothing but follow her father into the dark, the red lanterns no longer a mystery or an adventure, but a cage. Perhaps it was a fitting fate for a twisted child who would laugh at the site of her own mother's death. That wasn't normal. _She_ wasn't normal. She should have known… should have… realized. It wasn't okay.

She found that her self-disgust warred with her contempt for her father, as he dealt with his grief the same way he dealt with his family before, though neither she nor her mother had known about it.

He spent his days in Grass's akasen, trying to drink himself into amnesia before pressing a few coins into the palm of one of the giggling women that smelt spicy and stale at the same time. At four years old, she understood what he was doing, and understood that he was _wrong._ It was _all_ wrong.

She would be left on her own for hours at a time, sitting in the front room and chatting with the ladies of the brothels. They were kind, she was forced to grudgingly admit, and had very interesting stories, but that didn't excuse her father's actions. It didn't excuse anything.

A few times she would wander the streets, searching for food or drink, though never for long, because the streets here in Kusagakure were dangerous at night. She learned that the first time she was mugged by a boy that couldn't have been older than thirteen. It was quick and brutal. A swift punch to the eye and her meager pocket change was gone.

Her father hadn't noticed her blackened eye when she returned, but the ladies of the brothel were kind and full of sympathy, and offered her some ice wrapped in fine cloth on her way out.

"He'll remember," they promised kindly as she followed her distracted father out the door with a little wave and a fake smile. "This is where people come when they've forgotten themselves, but he'll remember and come back to you."

She smiled her adorable childish smile and thanked them for their lies, but inwardly wondered if she really even wanted her father to come back. She wondered what her mother would say if she saw them now, spending nights in brothels and constantly moving. She wondered if it were possible for a man to come back when he had done this same thing even before his wife died. It had been a year, and unarguably the worst of her life. A year living on the streets of the horrible slums of Grass ruled by crime and chaos and blood. A year that would haunt her for many to come.

Perhaps it was time she confronted him about it. She was tired of toddling obediently after him night after night with no real home he felt comfortable staying in.

The next night, as she watched her father press silver into the hand of a smiling woman with her lips stained a dark plum, the girl left the brothel, nodding at the women's familiar warnings as she left and heading down the alley that served as a shortcut to the local tea shop. She would not be out long. She knew better now.

She ruminated over a cup of hot tea, carefully thinking over the words she would use to confront her father. Too passive, and his eyes would move past her as if she were not there. Too abrasive, and he would punish her and accuse her of a childish tantrum. She would have to be careful. She would start with a smile, she decided, and hope he wouldn't be reminded of the expression she wore at her dead mother's side.

Her smile always caught the women's attention in the brothels. It would make them smile back at her, pat her on the head, and croon solace softly into her ear. She would smile at her father, and then she would ask him in the presence of the others, so that an audience could bear witness and he would be forced to answer.

 _Daddy, why are you with these ladies now that Mama's gone?_

 _Why do you give them money to sleep in their silk beds?_

 _Daddy, why are you making me feel lonely?_

 _Daddy?_

Her eyes turned to the sky, and a shiver trailed down her spine when she realized how late it had gotten. She slipped from the stool quickly, leaving a coin on the counter, and darted between the streets, keeping her head down and praying she would not be noticed. She knew better, yes, but she had forgotten.

The red light district was a dangerous place for children at night. At least in the early evening she only had to worry about being robbed or cheated. In the dead of night, even the homeless orphans tucked themselves away into their dark corners and ducked their heads, praying they wouldn't be seen.

The night was when bad men hurt little girls. The night was when madmen killed. She had seen a boy killed once, at the hand of a man driven delirious from the war. The sight had shocked her to her core, and she had run to the ladies of the brothel and thrown up while they held her messy dark curls from her face and soothed her with gentle words.

Now she knew what war was, and she despised it. War had killed her mother. War had stolen the compassion from her father. War bred nothing but evil and death and lust and destruction, and people like her and the other civilians suffered the collateral damage for it. Maybe that was why a thirteen year old boy would resort to violence just for a chance to buy a loaf of bread.

Someone should do something. Their leaders didn't. Did the leaders of Grass even know of its condition? Or did they just not care? Maybe she could do something, but not yet. Not at just four years old. Soon, though. Soon. She touched the healing bruising around her eye from the teenager's callused fist. Very soon. Before she was forced to see someone else murdered right before her eyes.

She tried not to dwell on the fact that her father had never noticed her state, neither when her eye was blackened nor when she was sick with grief and disgust at the loss of a life. She liked to think he would've cared had she bothered to tell him, but the memory alone made her hands grow cold as ice and she had no desire to recount it.

The matron of the brothel, an ancient looking woman who was once the mother of a Grass Chuunin, had been the one to tell her about war, the thing that made soldiers insane and killed mothers in their homes. She told her it was important for young girls to understand their history, no matter how painful, because women held true strength, and were the true rulers of the world, if she only looked closely enough. History was a fickle thing, she'd muttered bitterly to the girl, while her father remained in the back room, and fools who didn't pay attention were only doomed to repeat it.

If women were the rulers of this bloody world, the girl wasn't so sure what she thought about becoming one, because the world totally sucked. No one was safe anywhere in Kusagakure. Kusa wasn't allied with either Iwa or Konoha, so they were never warned which village would become the next victim of collateral damage. The only thing the two opposing hidden villages could seem to agree on was that while one village pushed the other's borders, Grass and Rain would be their common battle ground. Best not to dirty their own shoes, the Matron had spat with disgust.

The Matron explained to her that it was actually Kiri ninja responsible for that failed mission. What Mist was doing so far from the Land of Water was a mystery to her, but apparently it had something to do with releasing a terrible demon within Leaf. Did Mist ever think of what would happen when that mission failed on the outskirts of Kusagakure? Of course not, the Matron had scoffed, as if the notion were ridiculous and the girl was foolish for questioning her so.

Apparently war exchanged morals for ruthlessness, and while Leaf ninja worried and fretted over the death of their kidnapped Chuunin, and while Kiri lamented the sudden massacre of their legendary masked Anbu and Jounin, nobody cared in the slightest that a giant three tailed manifestation of deadly chakra had just been released into her homeland.

Not their business, they would decide. This was war, so sacrifices would have to be made. Their strategists would pretend to lament for Grass's 'unfortunate circumstances,' before concerning themselves with cutting their own village's losses. As if the whole situation wasn't their fault to begin with.

And that rampage, the Matron explained, was what caused her mother's death.

She swallowed the bile that rose in her throat.

That rampage that caused her mother to be torn apart and mangled while she played in the woman's blood like a sick demon, like some _twisted, evil, ruthless—_

She swallowed and buried the thoughts with a forced smile, even as fear raced through her veins and the moon steadily rose, casting unwanted moonlight over her head.

 _There's that pretty smile I love._

An icy gale of wind ruffled her clothes.

She ducked her head, trying to look like nothing at all. To blend in with the darkness, to be minding her business just like any other person, moving from one destination to another. It was somewhat of a cruel ray of hope when she rounded a corner and the brothel came into sight, only for it to be ripped from her view as a hand clamped on her shoulder and dragged her into the darkness.

" _I'm not for your pleasure!"_ she screeched, the words tearing from her lips, and with a twist of bitter irony she hoped the shout had reached the brothel. The few passerby around her glanced in her direction, but turned away without making eye contact, their gazes downcast and their hats pulled low. She was just another victim of the war in their pitiless eyes. Just another life lost because of a battle that had nothing to do with them. She hated them. She hated them all.

Her attacker shoved her up against the wall, and she felt the breath leave her lungs with a whoosh. She gaped for air before her panicked eyes met the man before her. He was young, for a soldier, but the very fact that he was a ninja at all made the blood drain from her face. She couldn't escape. Not from a trained killer.

His eyes had a crazed look to them, and her mouth fell open, pink lips parting in terror, about to release a scream, when his other hand clamped over her mouth. She tasted sweat and grime that reeked of filth. How much blood had soaked those hands? The thought nearly made her heave.

"Not for my pleasure?" he hissed in her ear, his voice little more than a chilling rasp. " _Stupid_ child. Even the cannon fodder sent to the front lines have enough silver for one of those whores." He jerked his head in the direction of the brothel, and she felt true fear rise within her like frost sliding through her veins.

She sank her teeth into his hand and he howled, throwing her to the ground. She tumbled to a stop, skinning her knees and palms. They burned as she picked herself up slowly ( _too slow!)_ and painstakingly, her cheeks flushed as she tried to make a desperate run for it, adrenaline shooting through her body like lightning.

Just because she was in a hopeless situation didn't mean she couldn't get lucky, and she would never stop trying. He grabbed her ankle and yanked her back, and she went down again with a squawk of protest, her chin clipping the ground and making her teeth clack together painfully.

"I don't think so, you pale-eyed brat. I want your _life."_ The vicious hiss made her shudder as she was dragged backwards, kicking and flailing.

Her opinion of that statement sent a massive rush of adrenaline straight into her system until she was in his grip and nearly frozen rigid. His eyes flashed again, illuminated by the waxing moonlight, and for the first time, the girl felt true fear that seized her entire body and locked her joints into place. She looked into that man's eyes and she saw insanity and blood, and she felt with chilling certainty that she was going to die in this alleyway tonight.

He clenched and unclenched his injured hand as he choked the air from her lungs, his good hand tight around her neck. She clawed at his fingers uselessly, panic rising in her chest.

 _Don't wanna die! No no no no! Don't wanna!_

"Your _stupid_ clan murdered my team, you filthy little shit. You think your eyes make you special? Make you any better than anyone else?" He was snarling into her ear, hot breath against her neck, and she had never been more scared in her life.

Her eyes began to roll back in her head. Her nails were leaving jagged, bleeding lines on his hand, but he didn't even seem to notice, crazed by the war and the loss of his comrades, so far gone that he was getting revenge for them on a child who didn't know a single thing about what he was talking about.

"War breeds monsters, brat," he snarled, as if she didn't already know. As if she weren't looking at one. "And the Hyuuga killed hundreds." His dark eyes stared into her own as her eyelids fluttered, her grip over his hand weakening. "You don't _deserve_ to live." The hissed sentence was probably going to be the last she ever heard.

Her eyes finally slipped closed, the world slipping away to darkness, and a solid _thunk_ followed, barely reaching her ears and registering in her mind. The pressure around her neck vanished immediately, and air rushed into her lungs painfully, causing her to black out briefly before she coughed and wheezed, rolling over and vomiting tea all over the street.

She retched until her stomach was empty and then wiped her mouth on her sleeve, still gasping for air as she turned her head to the side, staring through dark, sweaty tangles of hair to see what had happened.

A kunai was driven straight through her attacker's eye, pinning him to the wall of the alleyway, his undamaged eye still open and his skull caved in like a rotted pumpkin. She almost vomited again at the very sight, but managed to focus her attention on her trembling hands, willing the meager contents of her stomach down. She finally sat back on her heels and pushed her hair from her face, turning to watch the dark figure standing behind the man with new apprehension.

He (or perhaps she? The girl couldn't tell) wore a dark cloak, his face covered by a white mask with strange green markings. He stood there silently, the man or woman that saved her life, and stared her down through dark slitted holes.

She smiled weakly, her lips trembling. It was much harder to than it had ever been before.

"Th-thanks," she whispered, wishing her voice didn't sound so weak and utterly pathetic. This person could just as easily kill her. Was he mad, too? She couldn't see his eyes, so she couldn't tell.

He just gave a short nod and began to walk toward her. She scrambled back, terrified, but he didn't so much as glance at her as he kept walking, striding past her as if she weren't there. She remembered stories of masked ninja silent as the night and the word sprung to her lips before she could stop it. She had no idea what idiotic, death-seeking part of her possessed her to speak it aloud.

"Anbu-san?" she called hesitantly, and suddenly a painted face loomed directly in front of her as she was pushed up against the wall for the second time, a white mask inches from her nose. She went a little cross-eyed, her heart pounding so wildly it was a wonder he didn't hear it.

She hadn't even seen him move.

" _Little girls shouldn't know that title,"_ the hiss that was breathed into her ear made her blood turn to ice in her veins.

"D-don't yell at me!" she screamed back, her eyes squeezing closed tightly to rid herself of the frightening image. "You're scaring me! Stop it! Let go!" And then she descended into a fit of coughing, because that was far too much strain on an airway that had been cut off just moments ago, the dark shadows of bruising already beginning to appear on her bronze skin at the hollow of her throat.

"Who are you, Hyuuga child? Your clan is far away from here." his voice rumbled beneath those bottomless black holes in his mask. Even this close, she couldn't see his eyes. He looked like a monster, but she wouldn't think of him as one until he hurt her. The man still stuck to the wall, _he_ was the monster. This new threat… she wasn't so sure yet.

"I don't have a clan!" she insisted once her coughing somewhat subsided, still squirming under his tightening grip on her shoulder. "I don't even _have_ a last name! That _hurts! Let go!"_

"How do you know what this mask means?" he rumbled, ignoring her protests.

" _Screw off!"_ she yelled one of the phrases she'd learned from the nice ladies at the brothel. If the man was surprised, he hid it well. He paused for a moment, bottomless mask holes staring her down, before loosening his hold on her shoulder.

"Come with me."

Her surprise was great enough to render her silent as she gaped stupidly at the man.

"No! I don't wanna!" she finally resumed her squirming as soon as the shock faded.

"You are not being kidnapped. You are being offered an opportunity." He turned his back to her, waiting for her to process his words.

She blinked. An opportunity to what? Disappear with a cloaked man into the depths of the red light district? Hah. No. She might be four and somewhat unable to control her mouth, but she wasn't _that_ stupid.

She just looked at him.

Her skepticism concerning this 'opportunity' must have somehow bled into the subsequent silence because he offered one more sentence before beginning to walk away.

"Are you confident you will survive here without it, non-Hyuuga?"

She swallowed, her gaze turning to the man with a knife through his eye. That man had been stronger than her, but still no more than a passing nuisance to the man currently walking away from her.

"I'm confident going with a cloaked killer won't improve my chances," she answered tersely, allowing some of her learned maturity to bleed into her voice. She supposed she had the whores to thank for that, curing her of her naiveté. "Who are you?"

He paused, glancing back, and she saw a flicker of something—fascination? Intrigue?—flash across dark eyes before they were swallowed in the shadows of his mask once more.

"Wise words from a mere toddler," he observed. "You've already proven you know who I am."

 _Anbu._ She pressed her lips tightly together. Her and her big mouth. But in all reality, what had the odds been of him actually _being_ one? According to the Matron, they were never seen, only whispered of in rumors, almost legendary in all but name.

"Choose for yourself what you want to become." The masked man nodded at the corpse pinned against the wall. "Like him… or like me."

She didn't have to look at the corpse again to make her decision.

oOo

"Say your farewells."

So the Anbu had been honest when he told her this was not a kidnapping.

They stood outside the brothel, and she remembered earlier in the day when her smile was intended to confront her father. Now it would be used to tell him to let her go. A niggling sense of doubt in her mind wondered if he would actually be relieved of her absence, but she crushed it. He was lost, but he still loved her. She was sure.

Resolve formed, she opened the door of the brothel.

She didn't look back, but she knew the Anbu man had not followed her in. The Matron was inside, sitting in one of the plush chairs next to a nightstand, hands folded across her lap. Her eyes had been trained on the door for a little over half an hour, and they did not shift in order to rest on the girl. The Matron had been waiting for this young one, expecting her to return perhaps with another blackened eye, perhaps with her money gone or at worst, crying and in pain, or simply to not return at all. She had been prepared to demonstrate to the little girl's father exactly how disgusted she was with his coping skills and treatment of his only child. But this… no, she had not expected this.

"Child, your father is not finished with his business here," she informed the girl, but the child just smiled at her with her adorable smile.

It wasn't as comforting to see on a blood spattered face.

"Okay," she answered easily, before walking past the ancient woman and entering through the beaded curtains anyway. Pushing them aside with torn nails and blood soaked fingers.

"Child—!"

"Daddy," she called, her voice ringing out over the sound of shifting silk and feminine giggles.

The noise cut off abruptly, and suddenly the inner curtain of beads was pushed aside, revealing her dark haired, unshaven father with his shirt untucked and hanging loosely on his frame.

"What are you doing back here?" he demanded sharply, and she smiled at him, though she could feel that it didn't reach her eyes. Smiling was hard sometimes, she decided. Some guilt filtered into her expression, because she didn't want to hurt him, but she also didn't want to die. More than anything, she didn't want to die.

"I'm going, Daddy," she told him, and her breath caught in her throat on the last word. As always, her smile softened the features of her father's face, and he sighed quietly, crouching down to her level.

"That's a good girl," he praised her, placing a warm hand on her head. "I shouldn't have yelled. Daddy has some business to take care of, okay? You go on."

Some business. Her smile was cold and sharp as she nodded. She loved her father, but if she was old enough to know that she had played in the blood of a corpse that was once her mother and his wife, how could he not realize she knew of his 'business' as well? She pushed her negative thoughts aside and locked them away. No one was perfect, and this was her father. She loved him, and he should know before she went.

"I love you, Daddy," she touched a small, blood stained hand to his cheek. He didn't notice. His tone was gentle but his eyes were haggard and unfocused.

"Love you too, kiddo. Go on." He gave her a gentle push toward the curtain and she turned, pausing to look over her shoulder at the haunted man who had yet to remember himself.

"Okay," she smiled. "I'm going."

And through the haze of drunken loss and the taste of lip stain on his mouth, the father watched his daughter leave and vaguely understood that something was happening, something strange, and there was more to the exchange than what he had gotten from it. Was she not just going back to the main room?

But the dark haired little girl with her mother's pale eyes was smiling and happy, so he would dwell on it once he was sober come morning. Her last whisper was lost in the sigh of the woman awaiting him in silken sheets.

"Goodbye."

She disappeared and her father turned his back to the little girl, his eyes moving to the woman on the bed. She smiled and gestured with one finger for him to approach, her tinted eyelids half closed and her stained lips parting to release a soft sigh. He walked toward her slowly, and paused at the edge of the bed when the woman let out a startled sound.

He froze.

The woman's eyes went wide and she gasped at the sight of the bloodied handprint on the father's cheek.

(Later she would tentatively ask if he would like her to fetch a washcloth and the little girl's father would run to the mirror and then to the door, hoarsely shouting a name for a little girl that wasn't there, his voice lost in the wind of Kusagakure.)

(She was gone.)

oOo

"Where are we going?"

The girl wasn't exactly fond of surprises in a place like this, and she wanted to dissipate the air of mystery around the Anbu man. She didn't know how long she would be gone, and walking into situations blind was a good way to end up dead.

"Out of this wretched village," he answered flatly, and she scowled at the vague answer, but followed anyways, curious. They left the akasen and walked to the outskirts of Grass, away from the stone buildings and pillars and into the fields the hidden village was named for. The wind ruffled her clothes and she scratched at the crumbling blood on her face as it dried, irritated with the itchiness. The grass was about as tall as she was, though it only came up to about mid-thigh on her near silent companion.

"Come," he ordered, and she did so wordlessly, following him into the fields. After a moment of silence, he asked her a question.

"Why did you choose to leave?"

She stared straight ahead and smiled, saying nothing for a moment as she mulled the question over in her head.

He had given her a choice. To end up like a man with a dagger through his eye, or to follow him and gain an unseen opportunity. To her, that sounded like a veiled death threat, but he had already saved her once, and wouldn't bother to kill her again just because she gave the wrong answer. She didn't think she was worth that much to a secret soldier. Kids didn't really mean anything to anyone in Kusagakure, really. They died all the time because they were two weak, too slow, too clumsy, or too stupid.

Maybe it was that childlike stupidity that made her want to follow the Anbu. But he had seen something, and had offered her an opportunity. The only time that happened in Grass was when elite soldiers took on an apprentice. She had been noticed for some reason, and she wondered if perhaps he intended to mold her into something worthwhile. Someone that was worth noticing. She wondered if he would mold her into someone that her father would be forced to acknowledge.

And maybe that chance was worth risking her life for. Not the best reason, perhaps, or the healthiest, but why should she care? She was more likely to die out on the streets as an adolescent anyways without anyone looking after her during the evenings.

But she didn't even know how to begin an explanation like that. And why should she tell Anbu-san all that touchy-feely stuff? As if he cared about her personal life. Why would he? He didn't know a single thing about her.

So she just smiled with a hint of ice in her expression.

"Seemed like fun," came the blunt, childish reply. She thought she might have heard a snort from behind the man's mask, and her smile widened. Well, who was he to protest her obvious lie? They were both liars, and both secret keepers.

Yes, they would get along just fine, she decided.

And then they stopped at a hill, pausing in front of a large tree that stood alone in the field of seemingly endless grass.

"Would you like to know what I am offering you?" Anbu-san asked in an oddly quiet voice.

"Mhm," she nodded, violet eyes wide and curious. No way he was going to give her straight answer, right? He was too mysterious for all that. He would say something like 'an opportunity to be strong' or some vague crap like that.

But she listened closely anyways, just in case.

"I am offering you protection from Kusagakure's Anbu services. It will not be easy for you, nor will I be lenient. You will learn to obey, and much will be expected of you. Do you understand?"

She was pretty sure she did, so she nodded. What she didn't understand was why he was giving it to her. He shook his head slowly, and she caught a glimpse of dark blue hair beneath the hood of his cloak.

"Learning to survive during a war is not easy," he warned her. "Look beyond this tree and then I will ask you again."

She blinked at him blankly before skirting around the tree where the hill dropped steeply on the other side. She slowly parted the grass in front of her and peered down the land.

Bodies. Hundreds of bodies lay dead and rotting on the ground. Bodies covered in dry and flaky blood, some missing limbs, others stuck full of weapons that poked out of them in odd places.

 _Just like her mother, red pooling around her like puddles of warm water, all over her hands as she smiled and laughed and her mother's eyes fluttered closed. She said she was tired, not dying, but then she was gone and she was still laughing, laughing like a sick, twisted—_

"Do you understand?" Anbu-san's deep voice cut through her dark thoughts and her head snapped around away from the stench of death and the hanging silence that was suddenly too still, as if the wind itself stopped just beyond the tree.

The man saw something strange flicker in her eyes, an unnamable emotion, before just as suddenly as it appeared, it was gone.

The girl smiled.

"You show all the little girls of the alleys a bunch of dead bodies when you travel, Anbu-san?" she asked sweetly, and he stiffened imperceptibly before relaxing. He had expected her to cry, to scream, to run away, maybe even to vomit again, but a smile?

That was just fuckin' weird. Maybe she'd be strong enough for his mission after all.

"You're the first," he answered honestly, because he was curious now. This toddler who smiled after getting choked and puking and smiled after seeing the remains of a battle and who talked like she was five years older than her age when she was nervous or confused. And dare he say it, she almost looked… _unimpressed_. And wasn't _that_ just disturbing?

"Why'd ya show me?" she asked him, plopping down to sit in the grass, because she was tired of walking. Maturity didn't give her stronger legs, and her feet were starting to ache from walking across the village.

"Children are protected from war," he told her as sternly as he could, crossing his arms and facing the bodies. "They don't see this destruction. Soldiers from all over the world, Grass, Mist, Leaf, Rain, Stone… they all fight and die." He turned toward her, and she stared into the dark slits of his mask. "Where they're from doesn't mean much when they're all a bunch of corpses, does it?"

He leaned against the tree, feeling the thrum of its branches as they swayed gently in the mild breeze. "People are dying, and they will keep dying until the war is over. You're gonna see shit like that," he jabbed a finger over his shoulder. "…a lot more than you'd like, if you take this opportunity. You've been protected because you're young."

The girl thought about the young boy that had been killed right before her eyes, and about the homeless children that tucked themselves into dark corners at night. Were they protected from the war? When Grass soldiers shared quarters with civilians who barely had enough food for themselves and their families, were their starving kids protected from the war? Her eyes moved to the rows and rows of corpses, pausing on the still frame of a boy that couldn't be older than fifteen, his eyes blank and staring. What about him? No, she disagreed. Children were not protected in war. Not her, not any of them. At least, not here.

She snorted aloud.

"Anbu-san, you haven't been around Grass's sub-districts very long, have you?"

He didn't answer, but she hadn't really expected him to.

"Well, that's not really what I meant anyways," she informed him bluntly. "I meant why do you need me? Your super-secret soldiers keep me from dying, so what's in it for you?"

He blinked at her slowly and frowned, not that she could see it. She hadn't taken his opinion on war seriously, for whatever reason, but he knew she would learn in time the horrors of war, and he would simply have to hope it didn't drive her mad.

"Children are seen as innocent," he told her, evading the question with skilled ease and practiced evenness. "You are capable of many things an adult is not."

She stared at him for a moment, but then just shrugged.

"Okay. I got it."

He resisted the urge to give an exasperated sigh, because _no, she definitely didn't,_ but instead simply nodded because she was just a child, and she would learn with time.

oOo

 **A/N: So here we see two very different sides of the same war. Kiri has extremely talented Anbu and Jounin who managed to make it all the way to Konoha and escaped to Grass before their own plan backfired and stopped them. The Sanbi is on a rampage, and Itachi has faced the unpleasantness of post-war recovery procedures.**

 **For the record, I** _ **tried**_ **to make a self-insert, because man, there are a couple of amazing SI stories out there, but ugh. If FireShire got dropped into Naruto, the world would burn. So, compromising with a character that shares lots of qualities but also has some key differences.**

 **Still no beta, so mistakes are the fault of yours truly.**

 **Any OOC moments or historical flaws or geographical errors, feel free to politely pick at me for them, because the whole point of this stuff is to improve my writing.**


	3. Bitter Truths

Chapter 3 – Bitter Truths

oOo

"Hana-san, wake up."

"Screw off," the brunette mumbled, rolling onto her stomach with a yawn.

"I want to talk to you about Itachi-san," Shin pressed, tugging on her shoulder. Hana's eyes cracked open.

"Get your ugly mug out of my face," she grumbled before burying her head in her arms. A light snore picked up in the back of her throat.

"Hana!" he demanded, shaking her shoulder. She drew back an arm and hurled a kunai knife at him. It went wide, sailing harmlessly around him and falling into the grass. It was an almost embarrassingly bad throw, but Shin wisely chose not to comment on it, resisting the intense urge to smirk.

Instead, he formed four rapid seals with a resigned sigh.

"Water Release: Spout!"

A small chasm opened up above her head and water shot from the opening and splashed her in the back of the head, soaking her shoulders and hair. She let out a very feminine, very un-Hana-like shriek.

" _You utter and degenerate dick sneeze!"_ she bellowed, on her feet in an instant. "I'll make Itachi regret ever teaching you that _stupid_ technique, you worthless fucking dipstick—!"

"That's what I mean, Hana-san," he interrupted her, leaping back and dancing just out of range for her to strangle him. "Itachi-san is teaching us too much."

She paused with four shuriken in her hand before throwing them at him anyways, her aim remarkably better now that she was aware and quite frankly, extremely pissed off. She felt a trickle of satisfaction as he yelped and threw himself to the side.

"So what?" she demanded, debating whether or not to throw a few kunai just for kicks. The _nerve_ he had, soaking her in water. Just who did he think he was?

"So, I think Itachi-san's a lot stronger than us. Like, a _lot_ stronger."

She frowned, slightly affronted.

"What's that supposed to mean, asswipe?" she demanded defensively, crossing her arms, because Inuzuka Hana was _not_ useless, and it stung a little that Shin was acting like they didn't have the potential to be capable ninja. At least, not without Uchiha 'perfect prodigy' Itachi guiding their every step.

He glanced at her hands, making sure they were empty and _not_ moving toward her weapons pouch before warily walking toward her. (They did twitch a couple times, so he stayed on guard.)

"Well, Sensei's just started teaching us chakra exercises, right?"

"Yeah," she agreed. "And we kick butt when we do them since we've already been practicing. So what?"

"Itachi's taught us all the useful stuff we know, and Sensei's physical training lets us apply it. I've been watching him lately though, and I think he's holding back. I think he already knows the exercises and just pretends to go at our pace."

Her offended expression shifted into confusion as she crossed her arms.

"Why would he do that?"

"I dunno. Maybe he thinks we'd get jealous or something?"

Hana frowned at that.

"How much better could he be? He went to the Academy just like us. I mean, I get that he's a smart guy, even if he is a total wimp…" she trailed off, one hand going to her chin as she thought.

"I just think we should ask him not to hold back. We all have to give our all to get better, and it's important now more than ever."

"Why's that?" Hana asked, her gaze shifting to Shin. He just shrugged.

"We're being pushed to be strong right now. Konoha has to show off talented shinobi to ally with Suna and after the attack…" he trailed off quietly, images of dead bodies wrapped around beams and buried under rubble flitting through his mind. "…Konoha's at a bit of a negative disposition."

"Heh, so you can think for yourself too, eh?" she grinned a snarky smile. "Guess wisdom can come with age after all, eh, ossan?"

He glared at her.

"I got plenty of suiton jutsus up my sleeve, Hana-san," he warned.

Her grin vanished, replaced with a grouchy scowl.

"I'll repay you twice over for that, dipstick."

He stared at her sternly, his tone chiding.

" _You shouldn't use crude language in the presence of superiors, Hana-san,"_ Shin quoted in his best Itachi impression. " _It may be detrimal to the respect you could gain in the future."_

Hana snorted.

"The word is _detrimental_ you moron," she scoffed. "And the Uchiha can suck my dick."

"That sort of comment may lead to some mildly disturbing assumptions, Hana-san," a deceptively calm voice murmured into the air. Hana whirled around just in time to see Itachi leaning against a tree behind her, his face as stoic as ever.

Her face flooded with color and her hands curled into fists at her side. That sly bastard! Sneaking up on her like that, she hadn't even sensed him at all! How long had he even been there?!

From behind her, Shin started howling with laughter.

"Oh, screw you both," she rolled her eyes and flopped onto the ground, rolling onto her stomach. "I take back the offer. I hope you choke on a fat one and die."

She peeked at Itachi from the corner of her eye and smirked with satisfaction.

He looked absolutely scandalized. For a clan that valued propriety and hiding emotion, he sure wasn't good at hiding his embarrassment in regard to her crude humor. He looked like a child seeing an adult curse for the first time without getting in trouble, both shocked and horrified and strangely _fascinated._ It made her want to laugh and get annoyed at the same time.

 _Honestly,_ the Uchiha was such a stick in the mud. His whole clan was. She would have to fix that.

"Lighten up, Uchiha," she groaned when the silence stretched out. Shin just pouted.

"I don't get it," he muttered, staring at Hana.

Oh, to not have any siblings, she thought dryly. The lucky grey haired boy still had his innocence yet. Well, _she_ certainly wasn't going to have that train wreck of a conversation with him.

She settled for glaring at Shin as she wrung out her (still dripping) hair.

"I don't have enough middle fingers to deal with you right now," she sighed in irritation, before turning and stalking toward the training grounds. Itachi and Shin watched her leave, both sporting identical bewildered expressions.

"Did I miss something?" the Uchiha asked quietly, and Shin hurriedly shook his head, not ready to confront him about holding back without Hana's support, even if she was a total brat sometimes. Itachi would just deny it and talk him around in circles until he was confused if he didn't have Hana's 'no bullshit' attitude to cut through it all.

"Nothing," he answered quickly, scratching the back of his head with a sheepish smile. Itachi stared at him oddly for a moment, but didn't say anything.

Over the course of the next week, Hana did begin to notice a few of the subtle signs Itachi let slip that he might have been holding back. For one thing, he never sparred them, claiming that he didn't want to imagine his own teammates as his enemies, even if it was fake. (For the record, Hana disagreed with this philosophy completely and was convinced that beating her teammates to a pulp was an excellent method of strengthening team bonds.) He also always seemed to have new techniques ready for them in the morning before practice, carefully showing them the hand signs and getting the jutsu right suspiciously close to the same time she or Shin did. Truth be told, it was really starting to piss her off, and she made a mental note to call him out on it the next time she got the chance.

She wouldn't today, because after three days of straight D ranks, the Hokage was allowing them to take on another C rank mission and she didn't want to jeopardize her team's good standing with one another. She may be brash and easily offended, but she wasn't stupid. Starting a conflict before a big mission was _never_ a good idea.

But when they got back, boy was she gonna give that little turd a piece of her mind. A snarky grin touched her lips as she walked toward the Tower.

Itsuki was waiting for her, but Shin and Itachi hadn't arrived yet, which was strange. Well, Shin was always cutting it close, but Itachi was usually first to arrive. She wondered idly if it were possible for the perfectionist to actually get a time wrong. The notion filled her with an odd sense of glee.

"Well this is a first," Itsuki raised an eyebrow at her and she grinned, eyes fierce.

"Surprised the Uchiha isn't here already?" she accused, only half-joking. Itachi had already told her of the odd sensation he got that he was being watched by their Sensei outside of training. He had assumed it was some sort of test, or a suspicious sort of information gathering. Hana had disagreed, and chalked it up to the Uchiha heir being the teacher's favorite. Not that she cared, of course. Itachi had taught her more chakra techniques than Itsuki ever had.

Okay, so maybe she cared a little, but mostly she just wanted to see the Jounin struggle to answer her question. There was nothing more satisfying than putting adults in their place, and surprisingly, she and Itachi had quite the knack for it. Perhaps the only thing they had in common, but hey, it was something.

"I _do_ think my cute Genin is putting words in my mouth," Itsuki informed her, looking affronted. She just rolled her eyes.

"Whatever, Sensei. Way to avoid the question."

Because he totally was. He ignored her, instead chewing on a strand of grass and glancing over her shoulder.

"Ah, what convenient timing. As expected of Itachi-kun, of course."

Hana huffed, but knew Itsuki was intentionally riling her up now, and suppressed the urge to yell at him. There was something weird about that guy. It was almost as if he _liked_ watching them struggle and fight.

"Sadist," she muttered under her breath, and could tell by Itsuki's subsequent cough that he'd heard her. She turned to see both Itachi and Shin walking together, the former speaking to the grey haired boy in a low voice before breaking off abruptly as they came within hearing range.

And by that, Hana was pretty sure he'd calculated Sensei's hearing range too, if Itsuki's small frown was anything to go by. Stupid prodigies and their stupid know it all tendencies. Was she bitter? No, she totally was _not_ bitter. Just because her mom didn't think she was ready for a partner while Itachi sailed ahead in leaps and bounds… She was _not_ bitter.

She crossed her arms with a huff. Well, at least the Uchiha hadn't activated his stupid eyes yet. Even seven year olds had a limit to how good they could be.

"Took you guys long enough," she muttered crossly, and Shin scowled.

"We're right on time," he argued, and she snorted.

" _Please_ ," she retorted. "On time means in the Hokage's office, dipstick, not standing out here in the cold. Now let's go, it's fucking freezing."

She grabbed the two boys by their wrists and dragged them inside, shooting a glare at Itsuki as they passed. He could call her team 'his cute Genin' all he wanted, but at the end of the day they would have each other's backs, and these boys were _hers._ They were a part of her pack now, no matter how smart and wimpy or loud and irritable. Itsuki couldn't say that yet, could he?

"Something important?" she asked under her breath as they climbed the stairs. _Later,_ Itachi signed to her behind his back in Konoha standard. So he didn't want Sensei to hear, she mused, and felt a trickle of excitement because hiding something from a Jounin was both tempting and impossibly challenging.

She signed back the affirmative, though she really didn't need to, but more because she wanted to prove that she could, and they left it at that as Itachi seamlessly ended the sign language with a smooth motion to knock on the door.

"Enter," the familiar gravelly voice filtered through the door. Itsuki pushed the door open and the three of them stood comfortably in a line, more than used to the mission routine by now. They kept their eyes low until addressed, although for some reason Itachi seemed to hold the Hokage's gaze a little longer than what was considered polite before following suit.

She wondered if she'd imagined it. After all, Itachi was the most pacifist out of them all. Propriety was kinda number one in his clan's rule book, right before traditionally being stuck up snobs. She would know, she hated it. Then again, she also kind of loved it, because Itachi made the most priceless expressions when she threw dick jokes his way. It gave her a certain sense of vindication, and she hoped he wouldn't adjust any time soon.

The Hokage coughed, and her attention returned to him as she was jerked from her thoughts.

"You are being sent out of Konoha to deliver a caravan of supplies," the Hokage informed them, getting straight to the point. "This will be your first time outside of the village. Do you feel prepared for it?"

Both Hana and Shin glanced at Itachi, and then Hana wondered when she'd started looking to the Uchiha for approval. Shouldn't they be checking with Itsuki? Maybe Shin had been right. Itachi was teaching them more and more, and he was emerging as the unwilling, yet undisputed leader of their team.

Itachi just smiled slightly at them, and they both turned back to the Hokage and nodded.

"Yes, Hokage-sama."

"Good. You will deliver it to one of the smaller settlements in the sub-districts of Kusagakure and allow them to handle distribution. So long as everything appears to be going smoothly, you may return before distribution is complete. Here are your details."

He placed a scroll on his desk and pushed it forward. Itachi stepped forward and picked it up.

"Are there any particular threats we should be aware of?" he asked in a low voice, and the Hokage nodded approvingly, a glint in his eye.

"Nothing too alarming," came the stern reply. "Bandits are common, but usually low risk, and occasionally you may come across a fugitive or collateral damage from a battle. Remember to respect any civilians you may meet. Many lost their homes and families to battles that had nothing to do with them."

The Hokage's expression was one of grim sadness as Itachi nodded.

"We will be careful," the Uchiha promised with a respectful bow, and his teammates followed suit.

"I wish you all the best of luck." The Hokage smiled as they were dismissed.

"Before you prepare for this mission, there are a few things you may want to be aware of." Itsuki cornered them outside the Hokage's office before they went their separate ways. Three blank faces stared back at him curiously as they waited.

He chewed on the strand of wheat in his mouth as a grimace touched his lips.

"The war is over, but that doesn't mean you should let down your guard. We won't technically be inside an actual hidden village, but that doesn't mean we won't still be in Grass territory. Keep your eyes open, and always look out for unexpected situations."

"Grass nin shouldn't attack us at all anyways, though, right?" Hana asked, crossing her arms. "I mean, they weren't even an active part of the war. I'd be worried if it was Stone, but shouldn't they just be scared of antagonizing the village that came out on top in the end?"

Itsuki nodded.

"Fair point, but it's still best to be careful. This is your first time outside of the village, and we have a long journey ahead of us." Then he smiled falsely and tipped his hat. "Of course, I'm sure my cute Genin will handle the journey just fine, since they haven't been cutting corners during training _at all."_

He formed a few seals and vanished in a swirl of leaves as Hana let out a snort.

"Show-offy bastard," she muttered hotly, before turning to her two teammates, hands on her hips. "So, what were you two dicks whispering about?"

Itachi allowed a small smile to touch his lips.

"Sensei is still watching us," he told her quietly. "Would you like to come to the compound while I get ready? It would be helpful to have you two make sure I don't forget anything."

Inwardly, Itachi congratulated himself on speaking so naturally to his most heated teammate. It had been hard at first not to cower every time she spoke, or rather, snapped at him, but he was improving slowly, with the help of Shisui's occasional advice.

Hana let out an annoyed huff, because _of_ _course_ she hadn't sensed Sensei's presence, but it was probably because he was _never_ standing with the wind, undoubtedly avoiding her heightened senses on purpose. Leave it to Sensei to annoy her in every little way he could think of.

"As if you'd forget anything," she muttered crossly, but shrugged anyways. "Fine, let's go."

She blinked in surprise when rather than heading toward the East district, Itachi headed for the outskirts of Konoha, just outside the main districts.

"Uh, Uchiha, you lost or something?" she asked, and Shin glanced at her.

"The Uchiha Compound was moved to the sub districts," the grey haired boy explained quietly. "Itachi was explaining some of the reasons behind it."

Hana blinked, for once at a loss of what to say. Any kind of retort would be kind of inappropriate, and it wasn't exactly something she could joke about. She glanced at Itachi, who was calmly staring ahead.

"Is that… really okay?" she asked awkwardly.

"It's what the Hokage wishes," the Uchiha answered flatly, and she decided not to push it, noticing the tightness around his eyes. _Yeesh,_ he really wasn't happy, was he?

"Well… why were you worried about Itsuki-sensei overhearing you guys?" she asked, trying to divert the subject a bit. There had to be something she was missing. Relocation was weird, but not unheard of, so it wasn't like it was a politically sensitive topic, unlike the Kyuubi incident, which for some reason seemed to be totally taboo ever since it happened. Or… maybe it _was_ politically sensitive, judging by Itachi's carefully reserved expression.

"I think Itsuki-sensei has been instructed to keep tabs on me beyond the normal amount for a new Genin," Itachi murmured slowly as they reached the new compound's entrance. Hana opened her mouth to respond when a voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Ita! Ita!" The three turned their heads simultaneously in time to see a two-year old sprinting head on around the corner before he tumbled over his own feet and face planted into the ground. Hana stifled a quiet snicker, ignoring Itachi's irritated glare in her direction.

The toddler lifted his dirt stained face, still beaming, and pushed himself a little unsteadily to his feet before running the rest of the way to his big brother.

"Sasuke-kun!" Hana greeted the little one cheerfully, scooping him up in her arms with a bright smile. "Look how big you're getting!"

"Ha!" he greeted her, because he was really having trouble with the 'n' sound, and had just recently learned 't', which Itachi would have bragged to them about if he were any less composed than he was expected to be.

Sasuke latched onto Hana's hair and tangled his fingers in it while turning to grin at his big brother.

"Let's play, Ita!"

"Another time, Sasuke," Itachi promised gently as he lifted his little brother from Hana's arms, ignoring her pout, and deposited him on the ground. "I have to prepare for a mission."

Sasuke's lower lip wobbled, and Itachi quickly provided him with a distraction.

"Why don't you help Mother make lunch? I'll need something to take with me once I leave."

Sasuke immediately brightened, his contagious smile lighting up his features once more.

"Okay! I make Ita's lu…lungsh!" he exclaimed, stumbling a little over the difficult consonant. Itachi ruffled his brother's hair with a soft smile.

"Good," he answered quietly. "I'll meet you there once I'm packed."

They watched the little Uchiha stumble over his feet as he ran all the way back to the Main House, and Hana sighed.

"You should spend more time with your little brother," she huffed. "I don't get how you can send him off like that. He's much too cute for you."

Itachi snorted quietly but then flinched slightly under her subsequent glare.

"So, why do you think Sensei's all over you?" Hana asked, once Mikoto had welcomed them inside and promised to keep Sasuke occupied with lunch while Itachi packed.

"Itachi-san thinks Sensei's reporting to the Hokage about him to make sure the clan is doing everything they're supposed to," Shin offered helpfully as Itachi retrieved his traveling bag. Hana scowled.

"Isn't that kinda… I dunno, rude?"

"Only if it's proven to be true," Itachi mused, attaching his bedroll to the top of the pack.

"I'm surprised you'd even recognize something as rude, Hana-san," Shin commented dryly, earning himself a hard swat to the back of the head. "Ow!" He glared, and she returned it with equal ferocity.

"Just because I don't raise myself to the petty standards of society doesn't mean I can't recognize a lack of propriety, dipshit," she snapped.

"There isn't much that can be done regardless," Itachi interrupted, slinging his pack over his shoulder. "My father likes the situation least of all, and he's one of the only ones in a position to do something about it. I'm just not sure if I should tell the clan I'm being watched, or leave it alone and allow it to continue."

"Of course you should tell the clan," Hana insisted, crossing her arms. "Your mom is great. Maybe not as eh… fiery, as my mom, but I'd still like to see the Hokage take one of her lectures. It could be great! We might even see Sensei get served. Man, what I'd _give_ to see Mikoto-san telling off that lazy jii-san."

"I don't think it's a good idea," Itachi disagreed, though he cracked a soft smile at Hana's suggestion. "That might just make relations worse between the clan and the village. Already the relocation has everyone on edge."

Shin nodded, sprawled out on Itachi's bed as he propped himself up on his elbow.

"I mean, it won't look good if the higher ups in your clan think their heir is being suspected or followed. But they'd have every right to be pissed, too. I mean, I would be. I think you should just do what you feel is right, Itachi-san. You're a smart guy."

Hana nodded, crossing her arms.

"You're a total dweeb, but Shin's…" she visibly struggled to force the words out. "Well, Shin's not wrong. Think over your family stuff while we're away from the village and come back with your decision." She clapped her hands together loudly, making the two of them jump. "Now, go grab your lunch and give Sasuke a hug, and then you two better haul your asses to my place once you're both done packing so that my mom can feed us before we leave."

"Tsume-san's making breakfast?" Shin perked up, suddenly interested, and Hana nodded smugly. "Yup, and I've got my own little brother to hug on and spoil, so you shits better hurry. We gotta meet at the gates at noon."

They nodded, and she grinned before jumping out the window and roof hopping back toward the Inuzuka Compound.

oOo

All three Genin stood stiff and prepared at the gates of Konoha, their traveling packs heavy on their shoulders and the sun directly over their heads.

"All ready to go?" Itsuki appeared directly behind them, making Shin jump, but to the boy's irritation, neither Itachi nor Hana flinched along with him.

"Oh come on," he complained. "That's just not fair."

"Sucks to suck," Hana retorted smugly. "Sensing's in the blood."

Their sensei smiled and ruffled the boys' hair, ignoring Hana's eye roll and Itachi's weird expression as he walked passed them out of the gates.

"Enough bickering," he scolded, chewing on a fresh strand of wheat. "We've got traveling to do."

Traveling was… boring, to say the least. They walked in formation, stiff and alert, checking all around them for traps and ambushes, but after the first four hours or so, even Itachi seemed a little more relaxed than usual, his careful eyes scanning the tree line and foliage around them only periodically.

Itsuki seemed the most relaxed out of all of them, which probably couldn't be farther from the truth. He went to great lengths to bleed the tension from his posture and the stiffness from his gait. It was his first Genin team, his first outside mission with the responsibility of children in his hands, and he would be hard pressed to be found any more serious.

The end of the war was a curse as much as it was a blessing. Troops were sent home, families left to bury their dead, strained economies set on the track of slow recovery, and villages left to tend to their wounds.

But bitterness and hatred over the war would stem for years to come. Neutral lands used as battlegrounds would hate all sides of the war, losers would look for shady ways to get revenge, and outlying parties would falsify headbands to stir up conflict. The end of the Third Shinobi War only marked the beginning of the era of shadow warfare, and three fresh Genin with shiny new forehead protectors made for easy target practice.

The settlements around Grass had been hit hard in the war. Not as hard as Rain, but enough to where their presence might be less than welcome. He wasn't taking any chances on ambushes or assassinations. They were delivering supplies to help these people, and hopefully to establish some good relations as well as look good to the public for offering charity to war torn places, but Itsuki was no fool, and he knew that the fault of the destruction in the first place rested heavily on Konoha's shoulders. Perhaps not as much as Kiri's, but enough to which he wouldn't be surprised if they were met with only hostility, despite the caravan of goods they were towing behind them.

"You almost wish there was a bandit or two, ne?" Shin commented dryly as the sun began to set on their first day.

"Don't be an idiot," Hana returned with a roll of her eyes. "We've never been in real combat, so we don't even know if we could win."

"Only one way to find out," he grumbled. "Better to get experience with a thug than an actual trained ninja, right?"

She blew a strand of hair from her face. He did have a point.

"Alright, what would you do if a bandit came from behind?" she asked, and suddenly they were immersed in a discussion of strategy that even Itachi contributed to every once in a while. What if there were multiple bandits, or what if Sensei got held up by a couple and they had to handle the rest themselves? What if the bandits tipped the caravan? What if the caravan was stolen and they had to give chase?

Shin threw out wild ideas, and Hana pointed out the obvious flaws while Itachi fine-tuned the little details until they had plans drafted out.

"And a hostage situation?" Itsuki pitched in offhandedly, startling his students, and they glanced at one another.

"Depends who it is," Shin insisted loudly. "If it's Sensei, it's probably actually a clone, so we just ignore that guy and do what we're doing." He frowned. "If it's Hana-san, she could use her weird tunnel technique and send him spinning. If it's me, that guy's gonna regret it because I'm _super_ strong, and if it's Itachi-san…"

"It's called Gatsuga you uncultured swine," Hana corrected, miffed. "And that technique is incomplete, so it might not even work."

Shin skillfully ignored her with practiced ease and turned to face Itachi, his hands tucked behind his head.

"What should we do if you're taken hostage, Itachi-san? Let you kick his ass Uchiha-style?"

Itachi's lips quirked.

"Perhaps. But if that doesn't work, go after him anyways, and be decisively faster than whatever weapon is aimed at me."

Itsuki snorted and Shin grinned.

"Sounds good to me. How's that for an answer, Itsuki-sensei?"

"My impression is… you all are overconfident moronic little Genin," he answered with a cheerful smile.

"Oi, Sensei!"

oOo

Hana wrinkled her nose as the last rays of the sun were disappearing over the horizon.

"I smell people," she announced. "Lots of people."

Itsuki nodded, acknowledging her.

"We're almost there."

She was oddly quiet for a moment, her expression wary and thoughtful, and Itachi glanced at her in concern.

What Hana hadn't mentioned was that along with people, traces of the same smell from their last C-rank touched the settlement ahead. The smell of rotting flesh and death, and that scared her a little, because surely, surely they had buried their dead by now?

Surely there would be no corpses in the open. Didn't they have mass graves and tributes to soldiers here like they did in most hidden villages? She swallowed reflexively as buildings came into sight, revealing a village maybe half the size of Konoha, but with dirt streets uneven and broken up by rubble, and crumbling buildings with cracks spider webbing across their surfaces. Mossy growth and tangled vines were beginning to cling to the stone and creep across bridges, worsening damage and blocking out windows. The air was damp and stale, and the bright green fields Grass was named for provided an unnatural contrast between settlement and nature.

The three Genin instinctively drew a little closer to Itsuki, taking care not to stray from the path as they approached the settlement. Unlike Konoha, it didn't look like it was divided into districts of any kind. There was no line of demarcation separating wealthy and destitute, or marketplace and residencies. It seemed like the entire village itself was the slums, with only clapboard shacks serving as houses and crumbling buildings being used for food stands and stores.

Overall, the place was creepy, and Hana felt an involuntary shiver run down her spine. Sunken, haunted eyes stared over them with suspicion and hopelessness as they entered the village. Homeless children with ribs showing through their tummies stared greedily over the caravan, fingers twitching. Women in passing took one look at the travelers and immediately went into their homes, closing shutters and doors. Men's hands tightened around the handles of their weapons, and beggars smiled toothy grins with grimy teeth, eyeing the children like pieces of meat.

"Who are we meant to meet with?" Itachi asked quietly, his posture stiff, and Itsuki flicked his gaze downward for a moment.

"There should be a woman waiting near the local hospital," Itsuki replied, his tone just as quiet, and for once, not so cheerful. Itachi felt a faint brush against his hip and reacted instinctively, his hand lashing out to grab the offender.

Once he looked, he blinked in surprise, realizing he was holding the wrist of a little boy that couldn't be older than five. Fisted in the child's hand were a few coins. The boy's eyes bulged in fear and he tugged on his arm futilely.

"That's not yours," Itachi told him quietly, using the same voice he would've used with Sasuke. It wouldn't look good for Konoha ninja to treat anyone here poorly, children included. The boy paused, seeming to realize that Itachi wasn't going to hurt him. Then he grinned wickedly and sank his teeth into Itachi's arm. Itachi released him immediately, startled, and the boy scrambled off with his prize.

Itachi rubbed his arm ruefully, watching the boy disappear down the alleyway. A cackle of laughter interrupted his thoughts and the Genin team turned, only to see a willowy old woman sitting on crumbling stone steps.

"That's what you get for being soft, boy," she chuckled, the lines around her eyes crinkling. "You gotta be more careful than that."

"I wasn't going to hurt him," Itachi answered honestly, meeting the gaze of the elderly woman. "Why would he instigate a conflict?" His expression was one of blank curiosity.

The woman's smile faded and she stared hard at Itachi, her dark eyes glittering from the depths of her lined features.

"Guess a rich little Konoha brat wouldn't understand what a person'll do to survive, eh?" She didn't wait for a response, just chuckling quietly to herself as Itachi bristled slightly at the insult. The woman pushed herself to her feet, popping stiff joints and realigning her aching bones. She braided her long grey hair into a single strand with deft, practiced fingers and turned to face the four ninja.

"Th'name's Kama. You kids must be delivering the supplies."

Itsuki nodded, choosing to ignore the condescending form of address.

"I am Morino Itsuki, Jounin of Konohagakure. This is my Genin team, Itachi, Hana, and Shin. It's a pleasure to meet you." Each of the boys nodded a polite greeting as their names were introduced. The woman snorted.

"Like I said, I'm Kama. Head Matron of the whorehouses and peacekeeper of this shithole." She bowed mockingly, her hands spreading to either side as she lowered her head. "Pleasure's all mine, _Jounin Morino Itsuki_." She straightened with the grace of a former beauty and picked up a hand carven cane that had been lying on the steps, slowly making her way down the path, and gestured brusquely for them to follow. "I'll show you where you can leave that wagon of yours."

Glares followed the team as they moved through the destitute settlement. Angry eyes watched from cracks in doors and stared through grimy windows, tracking their every move as murmurs moved through the unnatural quiet. Shin flinched when a rock flew their way, catching it in one hand and staring at it. He met Itachi's gaze, his expression hurt.

 _Why don't they like us?_ The silent question burned in his dark eyes. For once, neither Itachi nor Hana had an answer for him. Murmurs began to fill the air around them, hushed and full of hostility.

" _Leaf ninja…"_

"… _get lost…"_

"… _started this mess…"_

"Why do they hate us?" he asked in a small voice. Another projectile followed, a shard of glass this time, along with an angry shout. Hana jumped back, startled, but Itachi broke its flight with a swipe of a knife that had somehow appeared in his hand, batting it aside with the flat of his kunai. She nodded her thanks, face pale and expression grim.

" _Savages!"_ A mad cackle of laughter followed the shout.

"Oi, oi," Itsuki muttered, turning. He tipped his kasa slightly, casting his eyes into shadow as he appraised the angry mob beginning to line the streets, his glare burning through the shade. The strand of wheat snapped in his mouth, both pieces floating to the ground as another rock was tossed from behind, bouncing harmlessly off of the caravan.

"Enough of that," Kama snapped, and the streets quieted once more. It seemed the Matron was not lacking in respect, at least. Then, as they progressed deeper into the village, Hana gagged and covered her nose. There was no mistaking this smell.

Bodies. Bodies of civilians, shinobi, and children, lining the streets. She saw Itachi stiffen and Shin start to tremble, and she tied her forehead protector like a handkerchief over her nose once again, not caring if it made her look snobby.

The corpses were charred and burnt, some crumbling and most little more than skeletons with a few pieces of flesh rotting on the bones. Should she ask why they hadn't properly disposed of them? How could she without sounding rude and callous?

"Was… was there a battle here recently?" she asked quietly, hoping her attempt at subtlety would pay off. It didn't. At all. It was obvious the corpses were months old, if not older, and Kama knew that, judging by the way she scoffed at the inquiry.

"Girl, we stopped burying our dead when the bodies stopped being ours."

Hana blinked in confusion. What did _that_ mean?

"How could the bodies…?"

"Stone and Leaf soldiers, Hana-san," Shin hissed under his breath, and she blinked in realization.

"Those soldiers fought for the betterment of the nation," she protested heatedly. "Why does it matter where they're from when they've died in a war? Every life given deserves the same amount of respect. It's wrong to be selfish and only honor the dead from your side! That's fucking messed up."

The woman was silent for a long time.

"You should watch that sharp tongue of yours, girl," Kama finally answered. "And catch up on some history that isn't out of your Leaf textbook." Hana opened her mouth to protest but decidedly closed it when Itsuki shot her a warning glance. Kama continued mildly as if she hadn't noticed.

"Besides, you're looking at civilian victims of a rampage, not soldiers. No way in hell we got the resources to get near that toxic stuff." Kama gave a dry cough.

"Toxic?" Itachi repeated, his eyebrows drawing together. "Do you mean poisonous chakra?"

Kama sighed, long and drawn out.

"Sure. Whatever you finicky lot wanna call it. Sanbi ain't exactly sunshine, is he?"

There was a shocked silence as that sank in. Since the Kyuubi Incident, no one the Genin had ever met breathed a word about the tailed beasts.

"Are you saying the Three-tails passed through this village?" Itsuki demanded, mildly alarmed.

The woman snorted.

" _Passed through,"_ she repeated scathingly. "What a way to put it."

"Kama-san," Itsuki pressed, and she waved a hand at him.

"Why don't you tell me, oh _Leaf Jounin_ -san? It was one of your shinobi that released the damn thing." His expression hardened and she sighed, a gravelly, husky sound that at one time must have been lovely but was now tired and hoarse. "I ain't here to offend you, Jounin-san. But look around. These puddles ain't natural, and we can't even get near those bodies."

For the first time, Itachi observed the shape of the large puddles of murky water sporadically littered across the village. _Footprints,_ he realized with dawning horror. Giant, deep, clawed footprints that tore apart the earth. And upon closer inspection, the same sluggish, heavy traces of toxic chakra were lingering over the bodies, though it felt distinctly different from the Kyuubi's.

"Do you know where the Sanbi went?" Itsuki pressed carefully, and Kama sent him a poisonous look that spoke volumes of her opinion of his attempt at gathering intelligence.

"If I did, it would be too damn close," she snubbed.

Itachi had to hone in carefully, but there was a difference… almost a color shift, between the Kyuubi and Sanbi's chakra, barely noticeable, but still there. He squinted at the residue chakra, his sharp eyes picking out an odd shape behind it, among the rubble of a collapsed house, and then flinched back violently when he realized he was looking at a skeleton curled around rubble, impaled through the chest with a rotted beam.

"Uchiha?" Hana muttered in concern, glancing at him, but he shook his head and returned his gaze straight forward. This was… this was horrible.

They were supposed to be doing good, bringing supplies here to make a difference, but why were they only bringing food and medicine? Why hadn't they been dispatched to filter through the chakra and remove the poisonous traces lingering behind, especially when they had experience doing the same sort of task in their own village? Why weren't any other teams here helping rebuild? This was… this was a dying village, and it was being ignored. Why couldn't Grass ninja come and help them? Had the war hit them that badly, that they couldn't spare a team for reconstruction?

It had been over a year since the war ended, so wasn't this… not right?

Konoha was devastated by the Kyuubi attack, and it was twice the size of this place. No wonder the civilians here were feeling hostile. Their meager single caravan of supplies looked shallow and halfhearted, and it would barely make a difference at all. Did the Hokage know how bad things were? And if it was true that a Konoha ninja was responsible for the release of the three-tails… well, he didn't even know what to think about that. It was too much to process at once while simultaneously trying to remain alert and aware of any threats. He needed to focus.

This old lady had set his mind spinning with just a few sarcastic sentences.

"Here's fine," Kama rasped, and they left the caravan in the storage building she pointed out, Shin huffing as they finally got it into place. "You four gonna stay the night?" she asked, turning on them with her arms crossed tight across her chest.

"Yes, actually, that was our original plan," Itsuki answered calmly. "We will be around to assist with the distribution of supplies until we are no longer needed."

She nodded, her lips pressing into a thin line.

"Shiba! Midori!" she barked, and two young boys poked their dirt-smeared faces out from over the roof of the storage building, blinking curiously. "Help these shinobi distribute the supplies. Tell 'em where it's gotta go."

"Obaa-san," the smaller boy complained. "We've been doing chores all day! Besides, Canary-hime just arri—"

"I'll do it," the other boy interrupted quickly, shooting his friend a look. "You go on, Shiba."

The younger boy grumbled, but glanced at Kama to make sure she agreed before turning and hopping down from the roof. He took off down the street, dodging the occasional civilian, and vanished around a corner. Midori clambered down as well, but took his time, disappearing behind the building before rounding the corner and crossing his arms as he assessed the three Genin, a crease forming between his eyebrows.

"Are you guys _really_ ninja?" he asked skeptically, and Hana nodded firmly.

"You bet your ass we are," she answered proudly. "We've done tons of missions to help people out."

"You don't look like ninja," he observed, before minding Kama's glare and quickly walking to the caravan.

"Well we are," Shin answered firmly before Hana could curse at the kid, and followed Midori to the wagon. "And we're gonna help as much as we can until our mission's over, ne, Itsuki-sensei?"

Itsuki nodded distractedly, leaning on the wagon while his gaze moved to the hospital building.

"Ah," he answered mildly. "My cute Genin are more than up to the task."

Midori snickered, and Hana and Shin flushed.

"Sensei," Shin complained. "Not cool at all."

"We don't need your help, really," Midori cut in, lifting a box from the wagon and setting it on the ground.

"What are you talking about?" Hana protested heatedly. "Of course you do. I'm sure you guys are tough, but so many of your buildings are damaged and abandoned. This supplies could save lives, you know. I get that you probably need more, but it's a pretty good fucking start, and if you didn't need us, we wouldn't have been sanctioned for a mission in the first place."

Midori shrugged.

"Yeah, I used to be really mad at you guys because all you ninja think it's cool to fight out your own problems on our home, b—"

"Midori!" Kama scolded sharply.

"—ut now we have Canary-chan, and that's really the only help we need." He finished his sentence unashamedly, before shrinking under Kama's glare. "What?" he demanded defensively. "It's true."

"Who?" Itachi questioned, speaking up suddenly. "Your friend mentioned a canary before as well." Midori rolled his eyes.

"Shiba thinks the Kiri no Canaria is a long lost warrior princess," he snorted. "But Shiba's an idiot. Oh, and he's my brother, not friend. Canary-chan—"

"That's enough out of you, boy," Kama cut in, her voice sharper than a razor blade. "If I'd known you were going to stand around telling tall tales I would've sent you chasing after that ridiculous legend and not your brother. Now get to work before I whip your hide into gear for you."

"Alright, alright," Midori acquiesced scornfully, before turning to Itachi. "I'll show ya where to take the food, and then we can water your horses." Itachi nodded, and followed suit as the younger boy hefted one of the larger boxes. Itsuki caught his eye before he turned and offered him a short nod.

"Be sure to stay on guard, Itachi-kun," he called pleasantly. "Don't let the little ones bite."

"Your sense of humor leaves much to be desired, Sensei," Itachi answered dryly, and almost painfully politely.

"You must've met Gina then," Midori snickered. Itachi followed him as he rounded the corner, leading the way down a narrow alley, picking his way through broken glass, debris, and mud.

"Gina? Isn't that name a bit feminine?" he questioned, shifting the box over his shoulder.

Midori snorted.

"Gina ain't no boy, Greenie," he told him with a grin. "No matter what she wants ya to think."

"Greenie?" Itachi inquired, confused.

"That's what we call Leaf folk around here," Midori explained. "Makes sense since ya don't really know nothin' about us, don't it?"

"My name is Itachi," he answered, eyebrows furrowing, but Midori just shrugged.

"So?" He nudged Itachi with his shoulder. "Hey, don't be mad. We call Iwa natives 'stoners'. Just not in front of 'em."

"Is that… Is that a drug reference?" Itachi questioned quietly.

"Hey, you're pretty sharp for a Greenie. But they don't take the nickname very well."

"I can see how your derogatory nicknames could be found insulting," he noted dryly, and Midori offered him a toothy grin.

"Right? That's why we don't call 'em that to their faces. Gina did once, on accident, and boy, they got _her_ good."

"What happened?" Itachi asked, curious in spite of himself. He still had a hard time believing the shaggy haired child that bit him was a little girl, but he supposed in a place like this, it was entirely possible.

"Stoners were drunk," Midori's smile faded, his eyes growing dark. "They usually are, once they've come back from fightin'. They like to crash into our bars, drink the places dry, and make fun of the workers when they demand pay. Gina was tryin' to steal some alcohol, to clean some of the injuries us kids got from the damage, and she got caught by one of them drunk assholes. She called him a village burnin', family killin' bloody stoner, and _bam!"_ Itachi blinked, startled, as Midori slammed his fist against a wooden beam. The rotting wood splintered and crumbled beneath his fist. "Bloody stoner ripped out her tongue. Now she can't talk or say nothin' at all."

" _What?"_

That was not what Itachi had expected from the story at all. He'd expected perhaps a beating, or just for the girl to be thrown out. That was… that was vile, and disturbing, and traumatizing. Disfiguring a child over petty thievery and verbal assault… it was disgusting. He remembered the child's wrist in his hand, fists clenched around coins, and his gentle, chiding words.

 _That's not yours._

"You deaf or something, Greenie? I said she can't talk. She's okay, though. Canary-chan came and helped when nobody else would."

He grinned at Itachi.

"I told ya we didn't need ya, didn't I?"

There was so much that he had just learned, so much to think about, he didn't know which question to ask first. Was Stone really that cruel? If that was how Stone soldiers treated civilians, was Konoha any different? How did Konoha soldiers treat people? Surely, surely with more respect… Right? How was Gina _just fine?_ Why was no one helping this town? Why hadn't Konoha come sooner? Why hadn't _Grass_ done anything for this land that belonged to them? Who was the Canary, and why was she there instead of them?

He didn't know where to start asking questions, and wasn't sure what was most important. He needed to focus on the mission, he decided. He needed to learn the information that was most pertinent to his goal. Technically, his goal was to distribute the supplies, see to it that everything was being delivered smoothly, and establish good relations with a war struck town and set a good example of what Konoha ninja were like.

Okay.

He sorted out his thoughts.

"Midori-san, where are we taking the supplies?" He would start simple. Distribute the supplies and get it where it needed to go. Then he would learn more about this legend, and how specifically they were being helped. Then based on that information, he would determine whether it was worth it to meet this Canary and perhaps work together, or at least put together a list of what Konoha could provide, while the Canary tended to other needs. Unless of course, it really was simply an idol or folk tale the village believed in. If that was the case, it wouldn't be worth delving into. But Midori sounded as if he'd met the legend personally, so Itachi would make that decision once he learned more.

After that was sorted out, then, and only then, would he worry about Stone and Konoha soldiers needlessly causing damage where it didn't belong. It wouldn't do to doubt his own village before he heard both sides of the issue. As for Stone… well… there wasn't much he could do about enemy ninja as a new Genin. That would simply have to be reported.

"Just up ahead." Midori answered, breaking off his train of thought. "We used to leave stuff in the hospital, but we can't go in there right now, so we're putting it in an old office building. The place is mostly empty now."

"Why can't you go into the hospital?" he asked.

"Too many sick people," came the blunt reply. "We're here."

Itachi followed him into the building he nodded to and placed the box amongst a few others, most holding meager rations of preserved food.

"Won't people steal it?" he asked, noticing the lack of security or even a simple padlock by the entrance.

"Not today," Midori replied with a toothy grin. He grabbed Itachi's hand, and the Uchiha was suddenly reminded of a younger Sasuke doing the exact same thing. Seeing a boy dressed in rags and covered in dirt act the same as his little brother made his stomach twist uncomfortably, even as Midori smiled up at him with a toothy grin.

"C'mon, I'll show ya where ya can water your horses."

oOo

 **A/N: So here we see that Konoha is not quite as goody-two-shoes as it seems, and also that common civilians don't really sympathize with soldiers when they're the ones suffering collateral damage of a war that had little/nothing to do with them. Also, poor Itachi is really not taking the devastation of the war aftermath well.**

 **Hey, Midori and Shiba were in the canon Chuunin Exams. Who knew?**

 **Thoughts: Who is the Canary?**

 **All mistakes are mine, and next chapter we see some of our fav Land of Water characters. Huh. This story is now up on Wattpad, too.**


	4. Political Ties and Pulled Strings

Chapter 4 – Political Ties and Pulled Strings

oOo

Anbu-san took her to a tavern in one of the small colonies just outside Grass's borders. It was her first time being in one, but she didn't feel afraid of all the rowdy men laughing and arguing with each other. Instead, she mused that this place was kind of similar to a brothel, except that it was filled with more men than women, but where people gossiped about their partners and joked and laughed and argued all the same. Surprisingly, she felt quite at home.

A few odd glances and confused chuckles were sent in her direction, but she just stared back at their sources unrepentantly, taking care to stay close to Anbu-san, because that man glided through the crowd like a shadow, and she worried she might lose him if she wasn't careful.

He found a table and sat, and she sat next to him, shuffling awkwardly and fidgeting impatiently in her seat. It was obvious that he was waiting for someone, and only then did she realize that somewhere in between their walk and arrival, he had removed his mask and now appeared to be an everyday traveler or merchant with his worn cloak and layered clothing.

She stared openly at his face, and he didn't bother to look at her, though unbeknownst to her, he was resisting the urge to snap at her that staring was rude, despite his feeling she wouldn't care in the slightest regardless. Then she scowled slightly, still scrutinizing his face, and he raised an eyebrow questioningly at her.

It wasn't giving in, he told himself. Technically he hadn't asked anything.

She just shook her head and snorted.

"I can't believe I've been takin' ya so seriously," she griped into the palm of her hand as she rested her elbow on the table. "You're just a teenager."

The remark did not offend him, he told himself. He could not possibly be offended by a four year old. He was trained better than that. Who had taught this brat to speak so well anyways? She should still be in the 'gimme' stage, or maybe the 'I want _that'_ stage. I mean, sure, he'd been a mature kid, too, but he had been trained to be a ninja. She was just a stray Hyuuga kid raised by civilians. Civilian kids were supposed to be normal. Or were they? Come to think of it, he wasn't friends with any civilian kids.

"How old are ya anyways?" she asked, and he firmly told himself he wouldn't answer. He would stay professional and not say a word. He would not answer to the likes of a child, nor was he under any obligation to, regardless of the blow his pride took…

"Nineteen," he muttered through clenched teeth. Man, _fuck_ kids, always knowing exactly how to get under people's skin. She looked delighted that he'd actually responded, and he resisted the urge to groan into his hands.

"Well, well, look what the Cap'n dragged in," a voice drawled, interrupting her glee and his irritated silence. The girl's head turned to see a woman kick a seat out from the table and sink into it casually, draping an arm across the back of the chair before letting her amber eyes flicker to the young girl.

"What's she?" the woman scoffed. "Bait?"

The girl smiled and the woman's eyes narrowed.

"Find something funny, brat?" she asked, but the girl's smile only widened.

"I know you," she said, before glancing at Anbu-san. He stared at her for a moment and then returned his attention to the woman.

"Junko," he greeted her sagely. "This is the new addition to my team." The dark haired woman nodded slowly, slowly shifting her piercing gaze from the girl to the young Anbu.

"Right," she drew out the word, every note dripping sarcasm. "And I'm the Sage of Six Paths. Whatever you say. Why am I here?"

"To get the council to approve her."

Junko stared at him in flat deadpan, the silence drawing out rather awkwardly.

"You're _joking_."

The man remained silent and she sighed, letting her head loll backward on the chair.

"Cap'n, y'know I can't do that. I'm retired, and my old connections aren't as strong as they used to be. Even if I wanted to, I'd be hard pressed to get those guys to accept a fucking toddler as a soldier. Grass is struggling, but they aren't _that_ desperate."

"The Daimyo favors you," he pressed, and Junko just sighed.

"He favors my kekkei genkai, which if you remember, I don't even _use_ anymore."

"Only because Kiri shamed you for it," the man argued, and she groaned. "The Daimyo of Grass has little to do with the Mizukage, so that argument is void here."

There was a long silence as she scowled, thinking things through.

"I can't make any promises, but I'll do my best to pull some strings," she answered finally. "But you owe me huge. If I ever need anything, you better be ready to lick my fucking shoes."

"Done," he answered immediately, albeit through clenched teeth, and Junko smirked victoriously.

"You also owe me a drink. I've been travelling for three days straight, and I'm still a fucking century and a half from the Land of Water."

He snorted and tossed a few coins on the counter before standing.

"We'll be on our way then," he said, and she slid the coins into her own hand.

"Fine, fine, you socially constipated shit. I'll get a drink on my own." She offered the young girl a sympathetic glance.

"Hon, don't inherit this guy's fuckin' attitude, kay? He's a total stick in the mud, so you're gonna have to fight to have a good time. Good luck."

The girl offered her an unfairly adorable smile and nodded. Junko ruffled her hair, because _damn_ the little one was cute, all doe eyes and bright smiles, before sidling up to the bar as Anbu-san headed toward the exit, his expression very carefully _not_ pissed off, because that was unprofessional. And no, he was not being a _stick_ _in_ _the_ _mud_ , he was simply following orders and being professional. Because that was his job. To be _fucking_ professional.

Kami, kunoichi were frustrating. And if the rumors were true and Junko's retirement had been due to pregnancy, well, he never had been good with infants, and he was _not_ going to be guiled into babysitting, debt owed or not.

He would save her from an assassin or two, maybe tip her off when she was on a hunter-nin's hit list, but he was no babysitter, no sir. Not him. Even the toddler following him silently didn't count. She was more of… a package. A necessary asset for him to complete the mission he'd been given. His aforementioned package latched onto his hand as he moved toward the exit and he jerked his fingers away instinctively, before immediately regretting it. Awh, hell, if she started crying because of his callous mannerisms in the middle of a tavern…

She just mindlessly latched onto his pants as high as she could reach and kept walking, as if she'd barely noticed and probably couldn't care less.

He realized then that she was simply trying her best not to get left behind in the crowded room, not searching for physical comfort, and he relaxed slightly, allowing a small sigh of relief to escape his lips. That was acceptable for a package.

oOo

"Again."

"Don't wanna."

Anbu-san glared at her as she pouted, sticking her lip out.

" _Again,"_ he repeated, his voice now laced with venom, and she grumbled under her breath, but obeyed, once more running through the makeshift obstacle course he had somehow set up in two minutes flat in the middle of nowhere. The first few times it had been fun. She'd crawled through tunnels and climbed up trees and sprinted in zig zags across creek beds with a sense of freedom and glee.

Now, however, the sun was high in the sky, her body ached, she was sweaty and grimy, and more than anything, she was _hungry._

This new concept of playtime seriously sucked.

"How did you know Junko?" he asked, distracting her from her pained efforts. She took advantage of the question as an excuse to collapse on the ground with a huff.

She'd seen Junko near the brothels, of course, because how else would a Grass brat like her know _anyone_ from _anywhere?_ Of course, Junko hadn't been looking for a night with a man, (or a woman, she didn't judge) but had been smoking a cigarette on the corner, speaking to a few men in low voices.

She knew people like Junko, and people like those men. They were the snakes, and she was their Queen, pulling their strings so that they could bare their fangs at whomever she pleased. She had been warned to always avoid those people, because thugs and thieves were one thing, but the dealers of the underworld were quite another, and the Matron had warned her once of the black market.

 _It will sink its fangs into you if you get too close,_ the woman had told her, her voice husky and low. _It will rip the morals from your heart and the sanity from your mind. They rule the illegal trade, the smuggling of goods, the organized crime, and a cute little thing like you would be torn to pieces the moment you were seen._ Then she had cackled loudly, making her jump. _Great advice from an old whore, eh, girl?_

The girl turned her gaze to the sky. She liked this quiet peace away from the village, and away from the danger of the akasen of Grass. Even if only new dangers were ahead, she liked it.

"Just saw her once," she answered honestly, rolling onto her stomach and stretching out in the grass like a cat, relieving the ache in her muscles. "Never knew her name or anything."

Anbu-san hummed his assent before his eyes turned cold and sharp.

"Get up and do it again."

She whined and pouted, flopping over onto her back. Why was he being such a slave driver?

"You will do this course one hundred times every day, until you can complete it as a morning warmup."

She gaped at him, her eyes wide as saucers.

He did not react. It was not adorable, he told himself firmly. And he was certainly not amused by the disgust and horror on her aghast features. He felt nothing but a small trickle of amusement toward her reaction of the training she would have to endure. He was Anbu, and therefore he felt little to no emotion, because that was what was expected of him.

He certainly did not crack a smile behind his mask when she dragged herself to her feet and wobbled over to the course, shooting wounded expressions over her shoulder every few seconds.

It was _not_ cute.

oOo

A month passed with surprising swiftness, and then two, and then three. She was fast now, and she couldn't squeeze her belly and make it look weird because hard muscles were emerging beneath the skin and ruining her fun. She found out that Anbu-san had a lazy eye, and it was really weird, and also that he hated pickled fish. She learned that he was kind of awkward, and didn't really like to linger and speak to his fellow Anbu comrades, despite the fact that as far as she knew, he was a Captain, and therefore should have a squad. Of course, she didn't know for sure, because it _was_ Anbu, and they thrived on being mysterious and secretive and cool.

She'd stopped asking about it when he doubled her warmup exercises. Apparently talking about his old friends made him stingy and grouchy. Instead, she just tried to find new ways to one up him, whether by trying to sneak up on him in the night or by stuffing his food with bugs.

(The former made him instinctively impale her in the arm with a senbon and made her wail for _hours,_ while the latter earned her a poisonous stare and a new workout regime that made her puke disgustingly copious amounts of fluid once she finally finished.)

Then there was one day when he just vanished. She woke up and he was gone, and she was left alone at their little campsite in the Land of Water.

They'd been gradually travelling across the map as she trained, and though she wasn't sure why, she did love seeing new terrain every couple of days. The pace he pushed was brutal, and the bastard didn't even _stop_ when she puked, or when the bandage on her arm got caught on a tree branch and ripped open the old scar, or even when she sat down with a pout and insisted that she couldn't move another step.

He just kept going until she panicked and ran on her little legs as fast as she could to catch up. Anbu-san really was the worst. But now he was gone, and she was in a land of killers. Bloody Mist had a worse reputation than even Kusa, and she was outside its borders, but still felt more vulnerable than she ever had with Anbu-san at her side, alone in the Land of Water. Mist was the village that started that whole mission that killed her mother, and here she was dancing on the thin line of their territory. Sure, there was a massive body of water between them to cross, but what kind of obstacle was that to ninja who had lived around water their entire lives? It was basically home field advantage, and now she was alone.

When there was no sign of Anbu-san after forty eight hours, she decided she had to move. She would starve to death if she didn't do something, or freeze if the temperature got to her first. She was too small to stay still for too long, even with her warmups. (Which she still did, even though he wasn't there, because she was scared that he secretly was watching her and would kick her ass again if she tried to skip out.)

She cried silently as she hunted, scared out of her mind of running into anything living besides game, particularly bloodthirsty Mist nin, and then sniffled, scrubbing at her eyes furiously so that she could see properly. It only made it worse.

She managed to catch a rabbit with the only snare she knew, which was the most basic one there was, but then couldn't bring herself to kill it and let it go. Squirrels were mean little fuckers, and so were raccoons, so them she could hunt. But rabbits were hard. Rabbits were soft and quick and gentle, and she wasn't meant to be a killer.

She settled for stealing some vegetables from a nearby farm and then high tailing it out of there as fast as she possibly could, because even Land of Water civilians terrified her. The squirrels and raccoons were too sneaky for her embarrassingly basic snares, and it was too cold to fish without risking her limbs actually freezing, so she munched on her vegetables in silence and tried to remember how to light a fire.

It didn't work. She had no idea.

She wondered if she was supposed to have been watching Anbu-san all this time, not only getting fast and strong but learning how he lived in the wild, without anything but a couple of weapons. She hoped not, because she hadn't been watching. She hadn't paid attention to shit. She cried a little after she ate too, because few things were more frightening than being a four year old alone near an enemy village with nowhere to go and no one to save her.

 _Mist doesn't protect its children, either,_ she thought miserably. They wouldn't help her. This sucked worse than cold, half ripened vegetables. And she would know. She had just choked down a bunch.

She woke up stiff and blue in the fingers and toes the next morning, and standing hurt. She ran through her warmup again, because this _might_ still be a test, or some really, really sick joke.

"I'm sorry I put a snake in your bedroll," she sniffed, once she finished her exercises and stretched a little extra just to keep warm. The weedy trees around her were silent, and offered no reply. "I'm sorry I stole all of your senbon and tried to melt them together into a sword." Only the frosty wind answered, and she hiccupped, rubbing her red nose and then wincing because now it just hurt, just like her ears and eyes and toes. "I'm sorry I soaked your socks in the river and let them freeze overnight."

She sat down on the ground, her stomach rumbling tellingly, and her lower lip wobbled.

"Anbu-san," she whined pitifully. She didn't want to die out here. She didn't want to die at all.

She wished she'd eaten the stupid rabbit.

Finally, as the sunlight began to shift and fade, marking the end of her third day alone, she decided that she would have to face them. Face the nearest village, try to blend in, and find her way to shelter and food. The night was only getting colder, and her fingers had already started to crack and bleed a little. If she stayed much longer, she was going to die.

So she walked. Sometimes she jogged, especially when the wind blew, because it rattled her teeth and seemed to chill her bones, and she wondered if she might actually turn into ice if she didn't pick up her pace to warm up. But she came to a dead standstill when she reached the edge of the trees and stared down at the tiny settlement below. She studied the people for a good hour, picking out the orphans and beggars and memorizing the details of how they looked, how they acted, how they shuffled from one place to the other. She saw the familiar glowing red lanterns in a distant alley and realized that unlike a Hidden Village, this place was nearly entirely lower class based, and really could only be described as the slums.

And didn't it really just say something that she felt more at home with it that way?

She adjusted her clothing and wore it down a little more so she looked just a bit frayed at the edges. (It really didn't take much—seventy two hours in the freezing cold with little food did most of the work for her.) Then she crept down the hill and slipped into the crowds, shuffling like she used to on her nights in the akasen. It did not bring back pleasant memories.

She took her time picking a target. She was starving and cold, but one wrong step could get her shanked instead of a deal. She spotted a boy leaning against a corner, his distrustful eyes scanning the crowd, and smiled slightly. He couldn't be older than twelve, and he was searching for something.

She slipped into the shadow of the wall and he turned on her immediately before she got anywhere near his back.

"Get lost," he snapped, widening his stance. "Not looking for a pet."

"Me either," she answered with a small grin, and he bristled.

"Got somethin' to trade?" he asked suspiciously, his eyes never leaving her.

"Got somethin' to give?" she inquired curiously.

"We ain't got room for freeloaders," he snapped, and her grin widened.

"I can trade ya secrets," she offered, and his eyes narrowed, dark eyes suddenly intrigued. This boy knew something, she realized. She had no idea what, or what it had to do with, but only certain people were interested in information rather than tangible goods.

"What kinda secrets?" he asked slowly, and her smile turned icy.

"Got somethin' to give?" she repeated. He scowled, and then jerked his head to the left, jutting out his chin.

"We got a hideout. But you gotta be useful. We don't like—"

"Freeloaders," she finished for him with a huff. "I get it, kay?"

"No. We don't like spies," he growled at her, his eyes suddenly cold. Her own body stiffened, hiding her fear, because she knew what a statement like that meant, and suddenly she was not staring at a boy, but at a viper, coiled and ready to spring.

"Me either," she smiled, welcoming the fangs, and he nodded shortly, apparently convinced.

 _Black Market,_ her thoughts whispered, little more than a hiss.

Moments later she was in the back room of an office building that was little more than an abandoned concrete shack, with vines growing from cracks in the walls and the ceiling, but she was biting into a half loaf of stale bread and she had to consciously hold back tears, because she'd been so _scared,_ and she still was, but she wasn't going to die, not yet, because they fed her. She would live just a little longer.

And Anbu-san could go jump off a cliff.

The boy next to her stiffened, and she turned her eyes slowly to a new presence that had just entered the dingy room. The girl standing in front of them couldn't have been older than fourteen, dressed in little more than a tattered kimono style dress with the sleeves torn off. Despite her dirt smudged features, however, she was almost depressingly beautiful. Her auburn hair curved around her face in sharp layers, covering one emerald eye while the other stared her down hard.

"Mei," the boy greeted her, his voice demurring to a much more respectful tone than the girl had ever heard from him before. She ignored him, her icy glare boring straight into the girl's purple eyes.

"What kind of secrets?" she demanded calmly, and the girl slowly took another bite of bread, chewing deliberately and staring right back at the beautiful street orphan.

 _Women rule this world, if you only look closely enough,_ the Matron's words echoed in her ears, and in front of Mei, that suddenly didn't seem so far-fetched. She ignored the venomous glare the boy shot her at her obvious lack of respect, and finally swallowed. Then she laughed, and Mei stiffened. The boy palmed a knife, clutching it threateningly, but the girl didn't care in the slightest, because Anbu-san was much scarier than that boy, and he was holding his knife all wrong.

"Secrets are secrets," she answered with a grin, daring Mei to attack her herself, because what kind of leader was too scared to fight her own battles? "I know lots of things."

"You'll have to be more specific than that, little one," Mei smiled daggers, her voice pleasant, and only received a snicker in return.

"How much do ya think ya know about Mist?" the girl asked, her smile turning cold as ice. "Do you know what it's called by everyone else?"

"Bloody Mist," the boy interjected heatedly. "Because the shinobi of the Land of Water are strong, and they aren't cowards. They aren't like Leaf's peace-loving fools weak with their own compassion. That's useless information, we already know our own land. We fear no one."

"Quiet," Mei chided calmly, and the boy lapsed into reluctant silence, his dark eyes brooding.

"Fear no one," the girl repeated with a small smile. "I wonder if that's why Mist has already lost the war."

The boy lunged at her, his knife flashing, and she caught it in her teeth as he swiped at her face, wrenching it out of his grip with a twist of her neck. It cut into the corner of her mouth and the coppery taste of blood flowed over her lips.

 _Ooh, that was lucky!_ She thought a little frantically. If she'd bit down a moment later her jaw might have been sliced clean off. That boy was _fast._ Next time, she'd have to learn how to properly block. Damn, why hadn't Anbu-san taught her how to do _that?_

"Zabuza! Control yourself!" Mei's words were sharp as the blade in the girl's mouth as the dark haired boy shoved the girl back on the ground before returning to his place against the wall, hands clenched into fists. He sneered at her, but turned away when Mei met his eyes.

"I suggest you make your point quickly," Mei advised darkly, her slanted gaze turning to rest on the girl. She spat the knife out on the ground, staining the floor red.

"This place is like the place I'm from," she told Mei, sitting up slowly and spitting blood onto the floor as she brushed herself off. "Your Daimyo doesn't care about the people, and the officials in charge are ruthless and ignorant. They are wallowing in riches while the common people starve." The girl wiped her mouth with her sleeve, eyes flashing. "Look around you. You already know how it is."

Mei didn't answer, her eyes dark and waiting, her attention never leaving the little girl. _She spoke too well,_ Mei thought, feeling the hairs on the back of her neck rise. _She switched randomly from childlike to adult-like in an instant, but why? Because Zabuza attacked her?_

She also possessed raw strength. Enough corded muscle in her neck to loosen the grip of a boy three times her age. She wasn't skilled, or trained in taijutsu, nor did she have the telltale signs of being a ninja, but there was strength, and there was deception. Raw potential to be molded. Perhaps she could manipulate this one, use her false innocence in their smuggling trade.

It was amazing the things the homeless and starving would do for a chance at survival.

"This place is just asking for a war," she stated blandly.

"We're already in a war," Mei reminded the little girl, who just smiled back at her.

"And whose war is it?" she asked. Mei frowned at her, thinking the question over.

"All of the Nations," she answered slowly, her green eyes piercing. "Tensions were rising everywhere, entire countries pushing their neighbor's borders, it was only a matter of time before—"

"Wrong," the girl interrupted simply. Zabuza scowled and Mei blinked.

"I'm not mistaken," she argued carefully, making sure her voice stayed calm. She would _not_ be riled up by a mere toddler with an uncanny grasp on reality. She would _not._

"Old people start wars," the girl said plainly, getting to her feet. "Councils, Daimyos, and Kages. It's the kids that die for 'em."

The girl walked toward the exit, ignoring Mei's startled expression. She turned in the doorway and smiled a genuine, cheerful smile, her eyes locking with the teenager.

"I lied. I don't have secrets. I just see the world, and it's kinda funny, isn't it?" her smile faded slightly, her eyes growing just a little darker. "Funny how the old people think they're so strong, and all you little people believe it."

"What would you have me do about it?" Mei questioned quietly. "Our trade is simple and cost effective. I'm no manager of political affairs, only of a simple market. The girl snorted, and Mei suddenly felt like she'd walked straight into a trap.

"Just a simple market, huh?" the girl smiled again, and Mei cursed inwardly for even admitting to that much. Little kids had big mouths, and now she might be forced to tie up this loose end here. Then the girl casually stuck a finger up her nose as she answered the teenager's previous question. "I wouldn't have you do anything," she answered bluntly. "I hate this place."

Mei tried not to look disgusted, but wasn't quite sure she succeeded. From the corner of the room, Zabuza snorted.

"What if it were the place you were from?" Mei asked, now intrigued. "The place you said was like Kiri?"

She shrugged, examining her finger, which (thankfully) came out dry.

"Watch it burn, probably."

Mei shivered, and the dark haired girl snickered.

"Man, you're kinda weird, though! Asking what _I_ would do? I just came here looking for food."

"And you lied and received it, so consider yourself with a debt to pay off," Mei returned coldly. She suddenly was struck with an idea of how exactly to tie up this particular loose end. "I'll let you have another meal in exchange for a favor, and then we can call it even. If you succeed, you can join us and receive meals regularly."

The girl brightened and nodded before Mei even had a chance to explain.

"Done," she answered seriously.

Zabuza smirked and Mei smiled.

 _What an idiot._

oOo

"My market is a trade conglomerate divided into several sub sections," she informed the girl, "Understand?"

"Sure," she lied, leaning back against the wall and munching on a slice of meat, (real meat! Not half ripened vegetables!) and pretended to look interested with little success.

"My sub section is involved with… metalwork, I guess you could say," Mei murmured with a slight smile, and the girl smiled and nodded, playing the fool.

 _Weapons smuggling, but to and from who?_

"Recently, we've had caravans go out, and the supplies is delivered, but the escorts don't return. Which means, basically, the number of people in my business is shrinking. It's shrinking a lot. If you find these people, return them to me and I'll let you off the hook."

"Why dontcha just talk to the guys you send your stuff to?" the girl asked curiously, and Mei offered her a simpering smile.

"I can't leave my station," she answered sweetly. "I'm in charge here, and everything would go to shit if I left violent brats like him in charge." She nodded to Zabuza, who grunted, but didn't disagree. "It's a delicate network."

"You gonna tell me where you send your stuff?" the girl asked. "Or is that 'delicate' too?"

Mei's smile turned stony.

"I'll give you your destination, little one," she promised. "But watch that sharp tongue of yours, or I'll let Zabuza cut it out."

Mei smiled cheerfully, mirroring the girl's expression, and pulled out a marked map. "Follow this, and you'll meet the man receiving the deliveries. It's not far, so you shouldn't have a problem."

The girl stared at the map for a moment and Mei felt a flash of uncertainty as a hint of something wild and dark flitted across the young girl's face before just as quickly as it had appeared, it vanished.

"You want me to go to Mist." The girl's voice was uncharacteristically flat, and Mei saw Zabuza tense, one hand going for the hilt of a weapon. Had she miscalculated?

"Yes. Deliveries alternate between Wave, Whirlpool, and Kiri, but most of the disappearances were with this man in Kirigakure." She met the little girl's eyes. "Fair enough?"

The girl smiled once more, but after the flat, dead statement before, it now looked unnatural and threatening.

"Okay. I'll chase down your workers." She was silent as she rolled up the map and stuck it down her shirt. She walked to the door and lifted a hand. "Later."

Just like that, she was gone, and Zabuza snorted once the door was closed.

"No morals at all," he muttered with a smirk. "Sending a little kid walking straight to her death."

"That little kid just guessed our trade after a few words," Mei shot back. "We can't afford to leave loose ends. Our revolution will collapse before it begins. I won't allow that to happen again."

Zabuza's face twisted with something unreadable as the taste of bile burned the back of his throat, accompanied by a hot wave of regret. He just grunted in reply and turned away.

oOo

It didn't take long to smuggle herself into the island Mist was on, stowing away on one of the smaller merchant boats and eating out of the crates to progressively make more room for herself. Actually getting into the hidden village was much more difficult. Mist nin made sweeps of the perimeter regularly, monitoring both land travel and water, revealed to her by a ninja with a set of strange breathing goggles attached to his face as he rose from beneath the water to allow them passage. She'd had to abandon her hiding place before it was searched, and walk along the outskirts of the village, searching for a way in. Tall cylinders of concrete stuck out of the ground like tubes, square windows cut out of them at random intervals. The air tasted heavy and metallic with humidity, and true to its name, mist hung over the village like a wet blanket, chilling the air and making her involuntarily shiver.

She hated this place. She hated it with a passion. These were the people that fought Leaf in the war. They were the ones, along with Leaf, that abandoned her homeland and ignored the terrifying manifestation of chakra and fury they'd unleashed on her village. These were the selfish ones who cared nothing of others, and the truth was in the name itself.

She waited for the next boat, standing close to the docks, and patiently waited as the travelers were asked to step out of the boat as their belongings were searched. She stood close to one of the women, trying to appear as a daughter, and got back on the boat close behind the adult. No one blinked twice, but it was a large boat, and what kind of threat could a toddler possibly pose?

She toddled off on her own as soon as the ninja were out of sight, still shuddering from the experience of seeing them up close. They were formidable, ninja were. They stood tall and towered over her with their haunted gazes and dull forehead protectors, making the hair on her neck rise and her hands turn cold every time she made the mistake of meeting their eyes. They sneered at her curious gaze, and she didn't blame them.

They were strong, fierce, deadly… she was little more than an ant in their eyes. A pebble to a mountain. Yes, ninja were formidable, especially Bloody Mist's, and she hated them as much as she feared them. But she smiled and wandered around, steadily drawing nearer and nearer to her intended destination.

Her heart began to pound in her chest, fear slithering into her veins.

Never get involved with the Black Market, the Matron had warned, and here she was at its hidden doorstep. She was near the regular Market, and the loud calls of the merchants announcing their products and Mist civilians haggling prices settled pleasantly on her ears, reminding her that she was not in the slums, and she did not have to walk as if she were trash being blown in the wind, hoping she wouldn't be burned to ash. She did not have to tuck herself away and hide from predators.

She only had to be reasonably paranoid, and keep track of her meager belongings as well as she could, until she reached the house.

Just like most of the other buildings, the structure was a perfect cylinder, jutting from a well-manicured lawn like a wide, ugly tube. She saw the corner of a small pond shimmering in the back yard, the natural mist hanging low over the dark water.

 _Wealthy from his trade,_ she realized blankly, and wondered how it worked that Mei lived on the streets and he lived in the middle class districts when they were both involved in the same industry.

 _What a weird industry, the black market is,_ she thought vaguely as she approached the front door. A huge man was standing guard on the porch, leaning back on a bench with his foot resting on his knee, the very image of relaxation. Well, maybe he would've been if not for the jagged edged sword dangling from his fingertips like an extension of his sharpened teeth.

He watched in utter disbelief as the little girl toddled up to him, pausing uncertainly in front of the door. Of all the homes, she chose the only one with a two hundred pound giant of muscle to beg from? Perhaps she wasn't quite right in the head.

"Get lost, brat," he growled, and she jumped, turning to face him and visibly swallowing. He smirked as he watched the little color in her face drain slowly. _Yes, run away,_ he thought wryly. _Back to your little street rat friends._

"Uh," she fumbled with her hands, stumbling over her words. "Are you Mei's friend?"

His eye twitched and she shivered. He paused, because he had once hooked up with a chick named Mei, but he highly, highly doubted they were talking about the same person, and that girl had been killed in a drunken bar fight by Kiri soldiers anyways. It was a real shame, actually. Careless idiots too strong for their own good were hazards when they got drunk.

"Mei makes deliveries here," the girl tried again, and the guard stiffened slightly because that kind of thing _did_ sound familiar, but there was no way… there was just no fuckin' way…

"And I'm supposed to talk to her friend that gets 'em," the girl continued hesitantly, scratching her head awkwardly, and man, she looked adorable like that, but the guard violently squashed the errant thought and assured himself that he could definitely kill this girl if she turned out to be a threat to his boss's trade.

"You got a name?" he grunted, and she rocked back and forth on her feet, debating his question (but why? It wasn't exactly a fuckin' hard one, was it?) when the door suddenly opened.

"My, my, what _do_ we have here?"

A man dressed in standard, if a little more high quality, civilian clothes stood in the doorway, clean shaven and just as immaculate as his lawn. Shaded glasses obscured his eyes, despite the fact that the sun was hidden, just as it was nearly every day in Mist, and the girl glanced nervously between the guard and his boss.

"Street rat," the guard grunted. "Lookin' for someone who knows some girl named Mei."

There was a pause, and the guard blinked slowly before turning his eyes suspiciously to his boss.

"Mean something to you?" he grumbled, but the man just smiled pleasantly.

" _Really,_ Hoshigaki-kun, you shouldn't be so rude to such a sweet child, coming all this way just to see us. Tell me, little one, how is Mei doing? She's an old friend of mine."

The little girl smiled hesitantly and clasped her hands behind her back.

"She's bossy," the little girl said bluntly, but honestly. "But good. She wants to know where her workers are."

The guard's eyes flashed and his boss shot him a warning glance.

"Why don't you come in, out of the cold for a bit? We can talk about it inside." He smiled a sugar coated smile, mirroring hers, and she shrugged.

"I kinda just wanna know where they are. I don't really like it here."

"Oh?" he raised an eyebrow. "That's probably because you've only seen the… _older_ parts of Mist. Would you like to see something more pleasant?" he gestured to his house.

"No," she answered, not interested in the slightest, and the guard snorted, before passing it off as a strangled cough when his boss shot him a withering glare.

"Well then, at the very least, let me bring you some tea, and we can both sit here on the porch while we discuss it. Fair enough?"

She nodded agreeably, because damn, if it was gonna be _that_ long of a conversation, she might as well have a hot drink. She'd hoped he'd just say, 'oh, they were killed by bandits' or 'oh, they got caught by the authorities and were detained' and she could just be on her way. She sighed as he walked back into his home and plopped down cross-legged on the ground.

"Too smart to walk into a stranger's home, eh?" the guard chuckled, low and deep. "Smart girl, aren't you?" In his not so humble opinion, she was an idiot for coming here at all. Any mention of his boss's 'business' was going to get her killed, just another kid's corpse to add to the war casualties decorating the streets of the slums. She was already a dead girl walking.

"Fuck off," she mumbled, breathing warm air into her hands and selecting another of the phrases she'd picked up from the women of the brothels. He choked, actually coughing for real this time, because _shit,_ he hadn't expected that, and looked at the girl with renewed intrigue.

"I'm doing a favor, I don't just go around picking scary people to talk to," she mumbled crossly, because he'd definitely implied something along those lines.

"Think I'm scary?" he asked tauntingly, and she squinted at him, taking in his greyish blue skin and _woah,_ were those sharpened teeth?

"Were you born with your teeth that way?" she breathed, totally impressed, and in spite of himself, he felt a light blush color tinge his face because, man, he'd been mocked and hated as an unnatural monster for most of his life, and here was someone who was almost complimenting him.

"It's kind of trademark here," he answered with surprising honesty. "Lots of ninja do it."

"It looks cool," she complimented distantly, staring at her hands. "But it also makes me nervous. Like you plan on biting people." She wrinkled her nose. Gross.

 _Only in Bloody Mist,_ she judged.

"That's the point, kid," he informed her, amused in spite of himself. There was a silence while they were both left to their own thoughts.

"I tried that once," she said suddenly, glancing at him. He raised an eyebrow. "Biting someone," she clarified, and then opened her mouth to point out her flat teeth. "But I didn't get away." He blanched, because that definitely didn't sound like a story a little girl would or should talk about so casually. "Maybe I should make my teeth like yours," she pondered. That would have surelydone some damage. But then again, with sharpened teeth, her smile might not be so deceivingly young looking. She'd look like the child demon she thought of herself as.

The guard wondered what sort of condition she'd been in after that confrontation, and then grimaced. Probably in better condition than she was about to be, anyways.

His boss emerged a moment later, two cups of tea in hand.

"Hoshigaki-kun, if you would tend to things inside, I'll entertain our little guest from here on out," the man demurred pleasantly, and his guard grunted before standing, effortlessly depositing his enormous blade over his shoulder and turning to walk inside.

"Bye," the little girl raised a hand and offered a small wave before accepting the hot cup of tea the man offered her. He turned away wordlessly, eyes shadowed, because any response would only make it more difficult to forget once the kid was just another corpse among hundreds.

"I'm glad to hear that Mei is doing well," the man informed her politely. "Did she send you?"

She shrugged. More or less, that was how it had ended up. The man let out a slow sigh, taking a sip of his tea.

"About Mei's workers," he began to explain, getting to the point. _Finally,_ she thought in exasperation. "I hate to burden you with this knowledge, but you should know that traveling is quite dangerous between villages, whether it's a shinobi village or not."

She nodded blankly.

"I'm sure those workers were very good, very trustworthy people, but sometimes bad things happen to good people, little one."

Another nod.

"So, I hope you can understand that crime is a terrible, terrible thing, but it happens, and I'm fairly sure your friend's workers suffered from it."

A stiff, short nod this time. _Good fucking Kami, get on with it,_ she thought miserably. Yes, she was four, but she just wanted an answer, not a friggin' monologue. And her tea was almost gone. And it was freezing.

"I'm afraid Mei's workers were either robbed and taken by bandits, or decided to leave the business upon their arrival in Kiri for personal reasons. Kiri does have quite a nice venue in some areas, so it's fairly reasonable."

She almost groaned aloud. Literally almost exactly what she had guessed earlier. Man, _screw_ this guy for wasting her time and body heat.

"So they just died or quit?" she summarized bluntly. He nodded slowly.

"Okay. I'll tell her." She stood and handed him the cup. "Thanks for tea."

"Just a moment, little one."

She paused, glancing back at him, and smiled, inwardly whining at him for wasting more of her time.

"Did you come here all by yourself?"

She shrugged again, mostly because she felt a little nervous about admitting that yes, she came completely alone, and no, there wasn't a handy Anbu-san to impale him through the eye if things went wrong.

"That's quite impressive, for someone so young. You must be quite the daring soul." He took a sip of his own tea, setting her empty cup down gently on the ground. "You know, I have a sort of… _collection_ here _,_ of promising young ones such as yourself. They are protected and cared for, and in return are sent on the adventures of a lifetime. Sounds interesting, doesn't it?"

He smiled, so she returned it and nodded, while in truth, he was boring the heck out of her and she wanted to _leave._ She was _tired._

"Perhaps if you were interested, you could join my collection. It is not a boring life, I assure you, little one."

She just impatiently shifted her weight.

"If I don't tell Mei that her workers are dead and done working for her, she'll just think more people went missing," the girl replied flatly, before remembering her manners. "Thanks, though."

He nodded and stacked the cups, one delicately on top of the other.

"Anytime, my dear. Please feel free to visit again. Perhaps next time you'll allow me to show you the pleasantries this village has to offer."

She smiled falsely and waved before turning and walking off, setting a brisk pace before he could add any more comments or offers.

"Hoshigaki-kun," the man called pleasantly, and the shadow of a swordsman silently approached, looming over his side.

"Follow her," he ordered with a lazy smile. "And if Kiri doesn't kill her, finish her off yourself."

oOo

The girl opted for the mountains this time, rather than the docks, because maybe there was a shortcut and… maybe because she didn't want to face the terrifying, formidable beings that were Mist ninja. She walked straight back from the boss's house, just realizing that for all his false politeness and ramblings, he'd never offered his own name. _Well._ She guessed that was to be expected in his kind of business. In his defense, she hadn't given hers either.

She didn't notice a dark presence lurking just out of sight, flitting through the trees quieter than the wings of a hummingbird, footsteps light and sure, or the shadow just barely fleeting across her blind spots as he began to corner her in.

 _Too easy,_ the guard thought dully, as he paved the way for her, guiding her where he wanted on familiar paths. She didn't question the unnatural blocks that he put in the way of her exit, nor did she examine too closely the ease of which she traveled the path she was on. It seemed she was simply walking, and making up her route as she went along, not minding that someone else was paving the very road beneath her feet.

He almost wished she would realize his presence so that he would feel absolutely zero remorse about killing her. Of course, he wouldn't feel guilty regardless, not really, but killing an unknowing toddler in cold blood would probably leave a sour taste in his mouth for a few days. Especially one that cursed like a Kiri ninja. That was _weird,_ but kind of funny, too.

He repressed a sigh. Such a shame.

And then she dropped out of sight as if she'd fallen off of the universe itself.

He immediately did a double-take, freezing in his tracks and scuffing a branch as he skid to an abrupt halt. His eyes had been on her. They'd never left her, and she'd just… fallen and disappeared. Had she noticed him? Could she possibly be trained? No, it was impossible. Even if she was training to be a ninja, which he found extremely unlikely, there was no possible way she could sense him, with his years of training under a sword master. He was fifteen, and she was… was… what, five? Four? There was just no fuckin' way.

He jumped to the ground and examined the clearing she'd dropped out of, wondering why the area looked so familiar, when suddenly he recognized the foliage she had disappeared to and the blood drained from his face as he cursed aloud.

He'd led her straight to the damn workers' prison out of habit. He pushed aside the brush and lifted the foliage. Sure enough, a familiar looking chasm in the ground opened up into an underground cave network, where his boss had decided to keep the workers he intercepted in order to sabotage the weapons smuggling industry.

The whole ordeal was none of his business, except for his duties to keep them and his boss alive. The drop was steep, but if the girl was lucky, she'd fall and survive with little more than a few bruises and maybe a fracture or two.

He was tempted to assume her death and turn, but knew if she somehow, inexplicably managed to get out of there, he'd be fired in a heartbeat, and the money he was earning would be lost.

Kami, he hated kids. After this crap, he would consider taking another look at the offer he'd received from the Cypher Division a few weeks ago. It would probably be boring as hell, but it was better than _this_ shit. He silently crouched and dropped into the hole, noiselessly landing and creeping down the tunnel toward the captives waiting on the other side.

oOo

The girl was pretty proud of her efforts so far, to be perfectly honest. She'd figured out what happened to the workers, not been killed by an adult involved in underground business, and was on her way back to several more meals. Things were looking up, even if she was so hungry she could probably eat her own weight at this point.

Then the ground just dropped from beneath her feet as if it simply never existed and she was rudely jerked by gravity into darkness with a startled shriek. Elbow, shoulder, knee, and hip all crashed into rock at some point as she tumbled down a crude tunnel and landed on her back with the air forced from her lungs. For a moment she just laid there, stunned, and then the pain began to set in and she let out a whimper, sitting up and staring with wide eyes at the abrasions on her knees.

They really weren't injured terribly, but the skid marks were wide and pinpricked with dots of blood and fear flooded her system before hurt could catch up, because _there was blood on her and blood meant hurt and_ what if _it was the same kind of hurt as her mom and she was going to die?!_ It was more blood than the hurt she had on her head and oh, Kami, now it was sliding down her legs all warm and sticky, mixing with dirt and she was _scared._ What if she never walked again?! What if her legs were broken?!

Then she heard voices and she scrambled to her feet, back pressed against the incline of the tunnel as she breathed huge, gasping breaths, because last time she checked, animals were native to caves, not people, and Bloody Mist civilians and ninja were bad enough. She did _not_ want to deal with Bloody Mist cavemen.

She placed her hands on the tunnel but drew them back with a hiss when her skinned palms stung sharply. The rock was damp and slippery, and her tender palms weren't having it. She turned toward the voices, seeing the faint outline of heads and shoulders in the dim natural lighting. Then she saw the glint of moonlight on silver and blinked in surprise.

The cavemen were chained.

She walked toward them slowly, curiously, and jumped when a woman saw her.

"You, there," the woman barked. "Why are you here?"

"I-I fell," she mumbled, heat rising to her cheeks. She didn't like being talked to that way. The woman's eyes went wide.

"On accident?" she whispered, her voice slightly hoarse. "You happened across us?"

"Uh huh," the girl answered hesitantly, side stepping toward the exit.

"We're traders," the woman breathed, eyes lighting up with hope as the other voices in the room dropped into silence, all eyes turning to the little brown haired girl. "A bad man is trying to sabotage us and took our caravan. There are keys to our chains on the far wall of this cave. Can you help us?"

Well, that sure sounded familiar. The little girl frowned for a moment, and then decided to ask, just in case.

"Are you guys Mei's workers?" The entire room stilled as breaths were cut short and eyes sharpened, watching her with a new kind of intrigue.

"You know Mei?" the woman whispered, and she nodded.

"I came to find her workers, but that guy who talks a lot told me they died or quit," she admitted, relaxing a little. They were chained to a wall, so they couldn't hurt her.

"He lied," the woman breathed, a small smile touching her lips. "We deliver weapons to countries and hidden villages fighting shadow warfare or planning to overthrow their government. I don't know what Mei has told you about us, but we need to get back to her. That man is trying to sabotage her industry."

"Uh…" the girl frowned, because she only understood about half of that sentence, but shrugged anyways. "Are you guys gonna attack me if I let you go?"

"Of course not," the woman insisted, affronted. "Why in the nations would you think that?"

"Because you're smugglers," she answered honestly, and the man next to the woman chuckled.

"Smart little girl has you there, Kaya." A small smile touched the woman's, Kaya's, she guessed, lips.

The man turned to her.

"We can't force you to help us, love," he told her quietly. "But we've been here a long time, and most of us are too weak to bother with something as silly as hurting you. If you think we're lying, think about that man you talked to. If we were anyone other than who we say we are, why would we be down here in the mountains directly behind his house? No one else lives in the area. Someone had to put us here."

She nodded, walking toward the far wall, even though he had totally avoided reassuring her. She _knew_ they were who they said they were. They were smugglers. That's why she was worried.

"S'okay, I was gonna free you anyways," she told them blankly. "You guys are hurt, so I'd feel bad if I just left."

Kaya's eyes moved to her raw wrists, and to the brown and red stains on the cuffs holding them captive. She blinked rapidly to dispel the tears gathering in her eyes. Stupid kids and their stupid straightforward logic. She couldn't help but love them.

"Sweetie, I promise," she choked out with a smile. "We won't let you down."

Then the little light in the cave was suddenly expelled, shooting them all into darkness. Soft footsteps permeated the darkness, along with the ominous scraping of a blade against stone walls, the grating sound echoing in the small space.

Every single man and woman in the cave stiffened at the familiar sound of the terrifying monster that brought them food and water at the end of every day. He was early, and he was never early. Which meant he could have only come for one thing.

In the span of a moment, their hopes were brutally extinguished.

The grating sound paused, and the guard let out an exaggerated sigh.

"This fucking _sucks,"_ he grumbled.

oOo

 **A/N: So Kiri suffering from war is pretty easy to sneak into, especially if you're just a kid with no ninja skills. I'd also like to point out that the two halves of this story run different timelines. Itachi's POV is roughly three years ahead of our main character in this chapter. Also Kisame is a dick who is not above hunting children on orders. Dammit, Kiri.**

 **Junko is actually canon! (Sorta.) We may see her later. Actually, we'll totally see her later.**

 **All mistakes are mine, does anyone** _ **want**_ **to beta? If so, I'd like to be very close friends with you and discuss nerdy stuff at length, so any dorks like me with lots of time on their hands feel free to help me out.**

 **Thoughts: Which side of the story is more interesting? The nomadic wartime childhood or Konoha's comparatively safe lifestyle?**


	5. Fire and Blood

Chapter 5 – Fire and Blood

oOo

Itsuki felt on edge, and he was not exactly fond of the feeling. His gut was telling him something was wrong, and ever since Itachi had disappeared with the orphan boy to distribute supplies and water the horses, the feeling had only worsened. It was childish to try and keep them all together at all times, especially with the circumstances of their mission, but that didn't soothe his unease.

Kama was unloading jugs of water and crates of healing herbs, and instructing Hana while Shin began to clean the harnesses from the horses. No one around them was throwing insults or debris anymore, but now it seemed even the murmurs had ceased. No whispered rumors, hushed insults, grumbled complaints… There was nothing. The streets were silent.

It was too quiet, Itsuki realized, and he didn't like it one bit.

"Where did everyone go?" Shin asked suddenly, voicing the Jounin's thoughts aloud. Kama turned, scanning the streets with a frown. The last rays of the sun were disappearing over the tops of the broken buildings and slipping away into the dusk. She scowled and put her hands on her hips.

"Most folks don't like staying out too late here," she answered shortly, the lines of her face deepening. "They aren't fond of the sound, I s'pose."

"Sound?" Shin questioned, confused. Kama nodded wearily.

"You'll see what I mean soon enough," she sighed, before resting a hand on Hana's shoulder and pointing her toward another box's designated location. "We'll finish up in the next hour, when your other lad returns with the horses, and I'll get you kids a room."

"Thank you for your hospitality," Itsuki answered mindlessly, though his head was spinning, sifting through possible dangers and heavy suspicions a mile a minute. He just hoped Itachi would return soon, and they could be out of this infernal dump of a town as soon as possible. He didn't like the air of the people here, cruel as it sounded. There was simply too much room for danger, too many pockets and alleyways ideal for attack. Already their vulnerable position beneath the vantage point offered by buildings made him nervous.

"Least I can offer for Leaf's kindness, eh, Jounin-san?" she answered, her eyes glittering, and he wasn't sure if the words were laced with bitterness or sarcasm or some odd combination of the two. Strange woman, this Kama was. He supposed that it could only be expected of a war torn town. Harsh times made harsh people, and Kama was no exception.

The air grew colder as the last of the boxes were finally unloaded and delivered to the correct locations without incident. No one tried to steal the merchandise, quietly tucked away in their homes or into the corners of alleyways. Perhaps it was the presence of ninja, and the fear of being attacked by Konoha that kept them at bay, though that certainly hadn't stopped the little brat that had bitten his Genin.

He was pulling a cover over the wagon when a whisper seemed to waft through the air. He stilled, his hands freezing as he tilted his head slightly, listening carefully. The noise paused, and then a faint scratching sound picked up again, barely audible over the chilly breeze. He heard something that sounded like the screech of a bird, faint and far off, and it was answered by an equally chilling keening wail.

 _What on earth…?_

He turned to look in the direction the sound had seemed to come from, but all he saw were a few empty food stands and beyond, the barely visible roof of the hospital. The streets were all but deserted, nothing but trash tumbling across the streets, no sign of life apart from the rats scurrying into gutters and beyond the cracks of buildings.

"Sensei," Hana interrupted his focus, and he turned to the girl standing nearby, watching him with a pensive and mildly frightened expression. "Something wrong?"

He paused before answering, and it didn't escape her notice. She paled slightly, and then passed it off with a snort.

"I bet you're slacking off again. Seriously, Sensei, we've been doing all the hard labor while you sit around on your ass. Let's go find that dumbass Uchiha and get going, kay?"

He answered with a false smile and ruffled her hair, making her roll her eyes and swat his hand away.

"Are my cute Genin tired? Very well. If Itachi does not return by nightfall, we shall go and fetch him. Fair?"

"Good enough," she acquiesced, crossing her arms. "I'll go tell the other dumbass." She turned and walked away, only casting a single, worried glance down the path Itsuki had been staring at earlier before returning to the stocked building. "Oi, _ossan_! Get off your lazy arse and come over here!"

 _Damn good ninja, she'll be,_ Itsuki thought fondly, a smug smile of approval touching his lips. She'd keep a careful eye out for danger, and warn Shin to do the same. The fact that she'd noticed something amiss at all spoke wonders of her observation skills. And hiding her fear so that she wouldn't alert or alarm any of the people around them showed tact and the ability to think ahead. Really, these children were something else.

 _No thanks to him,_ the snide thought wormed its way into his head, and he dismissed it quickly. Perhaps he had not had the opportunity to teach very much thus far, but that would change once their bodies were trained to be fit and strong enough to handle what he wanted to teach.

He shifted his focus to the alley Itachi had disappeared down and his smile faded. The two really should have been back by now, and it was worrying that nightfall was fast approaching. Genius prodigy or not, Itachi was still only seven, no matter how old he seemed.

"Oi, ossan, I _said…"_ Hana trailed off when she saw Shin sitting on the ground, speaking quietly to one of the boys they'd seen earlier. Shiba, she recalled. The boy was obviously upset, his eyes puffy and red, and Shin had a hand resting on his head.

"I… I thought you went after that Cardinal lady," she began, surprised. "What's wrong?"

" _Canary,"_ the boy corrected with a glare, before scrubbing at his eyes. "It's nothing," he insisted, wiping his nose with a dirty sleeve. Hana glanced at Shin, but the grey haired boy shrugged.

"I don't know," Shin explained. "He just came back a little while ago looking for his brother."

"Midori-san went with Itachi to water the horses," she explained quietly, crouching in front of Shiba. "If you tell us what's wrong, we might be able to help. We _are_ ninja, y'know. We're pretty good at helping people."

Shiba sucked in a deep, shuddering breath.

"No," he mumbled, more tears leaking from his eyes. "Canary-hime will help." His voice cracked on the last word and he buried his head in his arms. "She will," he mumbled, his voice smothered. Hana and Shin exchanged a glance.

"Well… maybe we could find her, and bring her to help you," Shin offered tentatively. "Do you know where she is?"

" _I'm not the one that needs help!"_ Shiba insisted suddenly, raising his head as more tears slipped down his cheeks. "Just… just stay here for a while," he muttered, burying his head once more. "I don't wanna be alone."

Shin met Hana's gaze and a mutual understanding seemed to pass between them. She stood.

"Sensei said we would search for the Uchiha at nightfall if he and Midori-san hadn't returned," she told him quietly. "I'll tell him we should go now. That way we can bring back his brother."

"Y-you'd do that?" Shiba asked with a hiccup, his eyes wide and hopeful.

She smiled at him, her heart aching a little at the thought of her own little brother waiting for her back home.

"Of course," she answered. "Midori-san would want to be here, and I'm sure you'd feel better if your brother were with you. Shin can stay with you while we look."

Shiba nodded, scrubbing at his eyes again in futile effort to stop the tears.

She leaned in close to whisper in his ear, staring pointedly at Shin.

"You gotta protect this one while we're gone, though. Shin's a bit of a blockhead, and he's _super_ clumsy. Make sure no one messes with him, kay? I'll get in trouble if he's hurt."

She winked at Shiba, and the boy offered her a watery smile while Shin made a sound of protest.

"Oi, Hana-san—!"

"I will," Shiba promised with a slight hiccup. "Th-thanks, kunoichi-san."

She swelled a little with pride at the form of address, because, well, she _knew_ she was a ninja and all, but it was still nice to hear it acknowledged by other people. She ruffled Shiba's hair and flicked Shin on the forehead before smiling fondly at them and heading back toward Itsuki.

Shin rolled his eyes and rubbed his head with a scowl before settling down comfortably next to Shiba, the double message in Hana's conversation loud and clear.

 _Protect him and watch out for danger._

But sheesh, she didn't have to add the whole clumsy thing, did she? Maybe he wasn't all that sure-footed, but she didn't have to rub it in like that. He huffed in annoyance before returning his attention to Shiba. Whatever. Girls were dumb anyways.

Hana met Itsuki's gaze and explained the situation in a low voice.

"So can we leave now?" she asked once she was finished, her voice low. For once, he seriously looked like he was considering her proposal, and she felt a little warm at the thought of finally being taken seriously.

"Ne, Hana-chan, you couldn't have possibly planned this all, could you?" he pondered, a finger going to his lips.

"W-what?" she blinked, startled. "Why the hell would I do that?"

"Well, say you were worried about Itachi-kun—"

"Not a chance in hell," she interrupted bluntly, staring at him in total deadpan. "Let's go."

He smiled cheerfully, clearly not believing her, and rested a hand on her shoulder.

"Yes, yes, Hana-chan. Let's look for our other cute Genin, shall we?"

She rolled her eyes.

"Kama said the watering troughs were behind the hospital," she informed him sourly. "We should start there."

He nodded, his cheery smile still in place.

"Stay close," he advised, and she heard something sinister behind his carefree tone. Wordlessly, she nodded, her annoyance fading as apprehension took its place. Those boys definitely should have been back by now. Itsuki alerted Kama to let her know where they were going before setting off toward the hospital.

As they walked further down the streets, the sounds Itsuki had heard before picked up again, increasing in volume as they neared the large hospital building.

"What _is_ that?" Hana asked, drawing a little closer to Itsuki in spite of herself. Strange wails were echoing quietly through the air, along with an occasional noise of impact, as if someone had dropped something heavy.

"It sounds like it's coming from the hospital," Itsuki answered quietly, his smile fading. "Proceed carefully."

He didn't have to tell her twice. She'd been antsy ever since the Uchiha had left in the first place, what with civilians acting hostile and trying to pick their pockets every time they took too long to blink. This place didn't exactly have the safe and cozy atmosphere Konoha did.

"Wait!"

Hana jumped, startled, and Itsuki already had a kunai in hand as they both turned, facing whoever was trying to sneak up on them. A man stumbled up to them, breathing heavily, with one hand clutching his side and the other held up, outstretched to them as if to try and stop them. He straightened quickly, taking deep breaths to steady himself, before continuing. "You… you're Leaf shinobi, right?"

"Who's asking?" Itsuki asked mildly, taking a half step in front of Hana. She automatically slid into a defensive stance, hands trembling a little but eyes fierce. She'd been trained for this.

"I… I need help, please," the man begged, desperation glinting in his eyes. Hana stared at the unshaven man with a frown, openly judging his untucked shirt, bare feet, and overall disheveled appearance. "My daughter is missing," he breathed. "I can't afford to sanction an official mission from Kusagakure, but please," he took a step forward and Itsuki's grip tightened around his kunai. A warning. The man stopped dead in his tracks, eyes flickering down to the weapon with fear, but he didn't stop, only pausing to take a deep, shuddering breath before continuing. "I've heard of Leaf's compassion, so please. She's been gone for three years. I think she was kidnapped, or… or ran away, I don't know, but please, I beg of you, she's all I have left."

"Ossan," Itsuki answered in a low voice, his hat tipped low enough to cast his eyes into shadow, and the partial darkness made him an intimidating figure to behold. Hana vaguely hoped the dim lighting made her look that badass too, before focusing her attention on the potential threat as her sensei continued. "You do realize the war was still ongoing then? Most missing people not found within a year…"

"I know the odds are slim," the man interrupted, a sheen of sweat appearing on his forehead. "And I know I have no business asking foreign ninja without sufficient pay, but… but I have to try," he begged. "At least take this," he pleaded, pulling a sheet of paper from his pocket. "It's… It's a drawing I had made of her, so please, if you do see her, somewhere, _anywhere,_ bring her home to me."

Itsuki wordlessly accepted the paper, unfolding it to reveal a painting of a smiling child with dark hair and pale eyes.

"Your daughter is most likely dead, ossan," Itsuki told him bluntly, and the man flinched. "But I won't forget this face. If I see her, you have my word she will be returned to you."

The man visibly sagged with relief.

"Thank you," he breathed, reaching out as if to clasp Itsuki's hand, but the Jounin took a step back, keeping his distance. "Thank you so mu—"

A rumble cut off the man's excessive gratitude, low and deep. Three heads simultaneously turned to the hospital in time to see a flicker of shattering light erupt on the second floor before an explosion ripped through the air and the entire building erupted into flames, shaking the ground and sending glass and stone blasting from its center. Smoke billowed in huge, dark columns into the air, obscuring the moon and darkening the sky.

Itsuki grabbed Hana's arm and dove to the side as the shock of the blast hit them, sending debris flying in their direction. As soon as they crashed into the ground she was ripping herself out of his grip and scrambling to her feet.

"Stay down!" he ordered sharply, and she jerked back away from him.

" _Itachi's over there!"_ she screamed frantically over the crackling of flames, tears springing into her eyes. There was an ominous, creaking groan as the hospital began to collapse and fold in on itself, giant sheets of stone and concrete crashing inward and breaking through entire floors. Hana began to run toward the building and Itsuki lunged forward, catching her arm and jerking her to a stop.

She glared at him in betrayal, teeth clenched, and he dragged her to his side roughly.

"We go together," he told her quietly, kasa pulled low. She stilled, her mouth parting slightly in shock, before she smiled weakly and wiped at her eyes. Itsuki was suddenly struck by how young she was, and returned the smile grimly, loosening his grip on her arm.

For all her crude language and exterior toughness, she was still just a child worried about her friends.

"Okay," she agreed fiercely, reasserting her game face with a huff.

"We'll circle around back," he ordered quietly, before turning to look at the man that had interrupted them. He was lying stunned amidst some debris, having been knocked to the ground from the force of the blast, but as far as Itsuki could see, there were no serious or life-threatening injuries.

"Your interruption might've spared Hana's life," he tipped his hat to the man, who blinked blearily at them, still stunned. "You have my gratitude."

And with that goodbye, the two cautiously approached the burning hospital. Only moments later, they began to hear the screams.

Wailing shrieks of pain and fear were echoing from within the building, and shadows moved from behind windows, writhing figures coated in flames, screaming out for help, and sobbing soon followed, audible even above the snapping of flames and crashing of equipment collapsing and breaking.

"Look for a relatively safe point to enter," he told Hana quietly. Their priority was Itachi, but they would not ignore a life that could be saved. Konoha's shinobi were not trained to be so cruel. Hana didn't answer, and when he looked down, she saw her face was drawn and pale, her dark eyes wide and almost luminescent, reflecting the flames glowing in front of them.

"Sensei…" she whispered. "The smell…"

He grimaced, because even he could smell the sickening stench of burning flesh, and she could no doubt hear them voicing their pain with significantly more clarity.

"Focus on Itachi," he ordered sharply, and she jumped, snapping out of her horrified trance. She swallowed hard and took a deep, shuddering breath.

"If he's okay, he'll be back there," she whispered, slowly raising an arm to point.

"You caught his scent?" Itsuki confirmed, and she nodded, some of her attitude returning as an affronted expression filtered into her posture.

"Of course," she answered sourly. "Th-the dumbass is my teammate." Itsuki nodded, and they ran to the back of the hospital, Hana leading the way. She didn't say anything else as they made a quick perimeter of the building.

The hospital was completely engulfed in flames, all doors and windows flickering with orange and yellow light, and all too soon, the sobbing turned into weak, hoarse screams, and even the screams began to fade as strangled voices were choked off mid-cry.

Then, there was just silence. A horrible, stagnant silence, broken only by the gentle crackling of flames and entire floors crumbling to ash. Itsuki and Hana both felt a heaviness that had nothing to do with the smoke continue to fill the air.

"Th-there!" Hana's voice cut into the silence, and she ran ahead, nearly stumbling in her haste. Itsuki followed her gaze to the empty lot behind the hospital. Itachi was on his knees, staring beyond the border of the small city, his gaze distant and unreadable. Grime and soot coated his hands and face, surrounded by rubble and charred debris.

"Itachi!" Hana threw her arms around his waist and collided with him, knocking him back as she hugged him tight.

"H-Hana-san…?" Itachi murmured distantly, his eyes slowly moving to turn toward her. One hand hesitantly rose to her back to return the hug. She immediately shoved him off of her and punched him in the gut, making him wheeze.

"You _stupid_ asswipe! You were supposed to be back ages ago! You make me worry again and I swear I'll blow up your sorry hide myself!"

He gasped slightly for air, and the hit seemed to break him from his reverie and wake him up a little.

"A-ah," he answered, looking at her for the first time and forcing a small smile. "Sorry I was late."

She blinked, and something flickered across her expression.

"Something's wrong," she said slowly, even as she realized it. "I want you to tell me what happened, but first things first. Midori-san was with you, right? Is he okay?"

Itachi nodded slowly.

"He took the horses to the stables," the Uchiha answered quietly. "We were in the clear when the hospital exploded. I came back to see if I could save some of the patients, and he stayed behind."

"I'll retrieve him," Itsuki cut in, walking towards the two. He laid a hand on Itachi's shoulder, and Itachi met his gaze, his dark eyes unreadable. "Hana-chan, please make sure Itachi-kun makes it back to the room Kama-san has prepared for us."

She nodded, relieved. She'd been prepared to fight Itsuki tooth and nail to stay with Itachi, and it seemed that was one less battle she would have to struggle through today.

"Don't forget to pick up our other dumbass," she reminded him, putting a hand on her hip. He nodded with a cheerful smile and vanished in a swirl of leaves. Hana had a feeling she wasn't supposed to ask whether Itachi had been able to save anyone once he'd returned to the hospital. He was alone, and his expression told her plenty, as did her sense of smell. No survivors.

"C'mon," she tugged him to his feet. "Let's get outta here before the smoke gets too thick." He nodded mutely, staring blankly at her hand around his wrist. She paused, slowly releasing him. Okay, something was really wrong. Itachi rarely lost his composure, and she knew for a fact that he would sooner throw an insult at someone than lose his equanimity. Which, if you knew the guy, was _really_ hard to get him to do. He was almost painfully polite even in the worst of moods.

"Terrible, isn't it?" she said softly, squinting through the smoke at the flames. "All those helpless people, trapped in such a bad accident."

Itachi stiffened, and she blinked when he turned away.

"It wasn't an accident, Hana-san," he muttered, eyes lowering to the ground. She shifted uncomfortably when she saw the angry, glittering tears that splattered against the ground, feeling like she should turn away. He slowly raised his head to glare at the flames with a stunning ferocity, and she took a hesitant step back, because Itachi looked… scary like that. She'd never seen him make that kind of expression before.

He clenched his teeth, jaw tightening. " _That_ was the Canary." He spat the last word like a curse, and she blinked, eyes widening as she turned around toward the hospital. Her hand, half extended to comfort her teammate, slowly returned to her side.

"No way," she breathed.

oOo

"Midori!" Shiba jumped to his feet as soon as he saw his brother, startling Shin as they both faced the two standing in the doorway. The younger brother ran to his sibling, and Midori smiled weakly, returning the hug Shiba gave him.

"Did Canary-hime do it?" Shiba asked hurriedly, his eyes so large his brother could see his face reflected in them. "Is everyone okay?"

"I… I'm sorry," Midori's weak smile faded, his hands trembling as his eyes shined with unshed tears. "She… everyone and Gina, she… they died, Shiba."

Silence fell over the four, and Shin's eyebrows drew together as confusion filtered into his expression.

"What's this about a death?" Itsuki questioned, finally breaking the horrible quiet, and Shiba dropped to the ground, burying his head in his arms.

"Shiba, I'm sorry," Midori began, crouching by his brother. "I'm really sorry…"

Shin walked over to the boys, hesitantly crouching on the ground.

"Ne, what's going on? Did one of your friends get hurt in that big explosion we heard earlier?"

" _Shut up!"_ Shiba sprang to his feet, hands balled into fists as he glared at Shin, who jumped back, startled. His hand twitched to his weapons pouch instinctively, but he didn't draw. "Don't pretend to care! You guys just arrive with one tiny wagon and suddenly think you're on our side but you're _not!"_

"Shiba, stop! Think about who you're talking to!" Midori grabbed Shiba's arm, but Shiba ripped it out of his grip.

"I don't _care!_ Gina's _dead,_ and it's because the Greenies and Stoners can't mind their own _frickin'_ business and leave us out of it! We're always the ones paying for their _stupid_ fights, and they think they can bring some food and medicine and suddenly be our friends!" Shiba whirled on Itsuki, who stared back at him with flat, emotionless eyes. "Do we need medicine now, Greenie?!" He demanded in a snarl. "Our hospital's been _blown up,_ so we don' even have patients to take it!" His glare shifted to Shin, and tears slipped down his cheeks. "You guys make me _sick."_

Shin's eyes went wide, and he swallowed, trying to force back the stinging in his eyes. Ninja weren't supposed to cry, especially over something as trivial as harsh words. But he'd never really been good at handling rejection, and this stung, even if the words rang false to him. They could be true in regard to Konoha, even if it didn't apply directly to him.

The sound of a sharp slap rang out in the tense silence, and Shin jumped in surprise, his eyes jerking back up to the boys. Midori's eyes were shadowed, his hand still raised, and Shiba took a stumbling step back, his cheek burning a bright red.

"Midori…" he mumbled, hurt and betrayed.

" _Who do you think you're talking to?"_ his older brother hissed. "These aren't normal people, they're _ninja,_ you moron! Apologize!"

"Why should I?!" Shiba demanded. "I haven't done anything wr—!"

"Because they can kill you without a second thought and no one would blink twice!" Midori snarled. Shin started, his mouth parting to interrupt, but no words came out. "It _doesn't matter_ who's right or wrong _._ Remember what happened to Gina for talking back to a ninja? Learn to control yourself before someone stronger does it for you!" Midori's tone was angry, but his expression was one of fear and apprehension.

Realization froze his brother's expression, and Shiba slumped, guilty and defeated as something dark passed across his eyes, as if he were remembering something particularly unpleasant.

"But Gina… she…" Fat tears spilled from his eyes, and Midori laid a hand on his shoulder.

"C'mon," he urged gently, nodding toward Shin and Itsuki. "Apologize."

Shiba turned toward the ninja and bowed his head. Tears splattered against the dirt streaked ground.

"I'm sor—!"

"Stop."

Shiba blinked in shock, as did Midori, when Shin was the one to interrupt, and not Itsuki. The boy's voice was dark and rang with finality. The Jounin sensei turned to his student, raising an eyebrow, but Shin didn't falter. "Don't apologize."

Shin stared hard at Shiba, willing down his hurt and confusion and trying his best to sound stern and collected. His eyes still stung, and he could feel heat burning in his cheeks, but now he was more upset because two children who had suffered more than most had just lost a friend, and were afraid to speak their mind for fear of offending a ninja and possibly losing their lives because of it.

Ninja were supposed to be the good guys. Ninja were supposed to help people that were struggling. That was why they were there. They weren't supposed to burn down places that weren't involved in the war. They weren't supposed to destroy the homes of innocent children. And they certainly weren't supposed to hurt a child for getting angry and speaking out against something he or she believed was wrong. The fact that this Gina person had been punished for yelling at a ninja was… was deplorable. It made him sick. It made him… not proud to be a ninja. It made him ashamed. Because even if the ninja wasn't from Konoha, it was their duty to be better than that.

So if he let Shiba apologize… well, he just couldn't. If Shiba apologized out of fear of being hurt by them, the very same ninja that came to help, Shin wouldn't even know who he was anymore. What kind of person would let a kid apologize for something like that? He didn't know, but he was sure it wasn't the kind of person he wanted to be.

"We're not going to hurt you just because you think something's unfair," Shin told the boys, his eyes dark and serious. "If another ninja hurt your friend because she said something they didn't like, they should have their license as a shinobi removed. Sometimes ninja fight other ninja, because they want to protect people like you. If any ninja tries to hurt an innocent civilian, they don't even deserve the title."

Shin spat the last sentence venomously, and Midori and Shiba stared at him, their expressions unreadable. At the very least, Shiba's frustrated tears had stopped.

When Shin next spoke, it was to Itsuki, and his voice was trembling.

"Why is this happening?" he asked, hands shaking at his sides as Midori rested an arm across his brother's shoulders, speaking to him in a low voice and murmuring soft words of solace. "The war is over, dammit! People should be happy, shouldn't they?!"

"Sometimes things aren't as black and white as you'd expect," Itsuki answered quietly. "You handled the situation well."

Shin blinked at the unexpected compliment, raising his head to meet Itsuki's eyes. His sensei turned to the children.

"Shin is right. Just like with any job, there are good ninja and bad ninja. I am sorry that your past experiences only seem to have been with the latter. We are not here to harm you, but if there is any information you can give us regarding the hospital and why it was targeted, we might be able to help prevent things like this from happening again. Fair enough?"

Midori and Shiba quieted, exchanging a glance, and Itsuki's eyes sharpened, detecting the subtle changes in their attitudes with ease. It was obvious they knew it wasn't a random attack, but only with their cooperation would he be able to learn the details.

"Okay," Midori answered, a little hesitantly, "But I'm taking Shiba home first." Itsuki nodded agreeably.

"If I understand correctly, we have a room to get back to as well. Itachi and Hana will meet us there." The last sentence he directed toward Shin, who started in surprise, seeming to just remember his two other companions. Guilt flickered briefly across his features.

"Oh, yeah, was Itachi-san okay? He was out pretty late, and didn't come back with Midori-san…"

"He's fine," Itsuki assured him. "A little shaken up, but nothing a good night's sleep won't cure, eh?" He offered Shin a too bright smile and the boy stared at him for a moment before shrugging.

"Okay. It's Itachi, so… I guess it would be weird if he _wasn't_ fine." Shin turned to the brothers and bowed, making them blink in surprise.

"I'm really sorry about your friend!" Shin insisted heatedly, before raising his head. "I promise to help any way I can, and I know my teammates will do the same. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow."

The boys just stared at him as Itsuki turned and began to walk away, motioning with a hand for his student to follow. Blushing a little, Shin complied, and they headed back toward the wagon to find Kama. He wasn't sure if what he'd said had made any difference in their opinion of him, but at least he'd tried.

oOo

An hour later the team of four was reunited, taking up shelter in Kama's spare room. Itsuki and Shin had arrived first, only to be traced by Hana's sense of smell once they'd arrived and settled in a bit. The room was small, but four thin futons had been laid out, and a few scratchy blankets and thin pillows were folded neatly in one corner for them.

"Safest place for folks like you," Kama had explained smartly before retiring her own bedroom. "Nobody will touch this house till I'm six feet under so long as I have any say about it."

Itsuki had thanked her for her hospitality once again, and they had settled together into the dimly lit room to discuss the day's events before they went to sleep.

"She didn't have to be so rude earlier," Hana huffed, crossing her arms.

"Who?"

"Kama-san, of course," she glared at Shin. "All that stuff about not burying Konoha soldiers just because the bodies weren't theirs." She scowled. "And that whole thing about reading a textbook that wasn't ours? What the hell was that about? She made us out to be total idiots."

"Hmm," Itsuki pondered her words for a moment. "Well, history _is_ written by the winners, as they say."

"I think... Kama-san may have a point," Shin said suddenly, his voice hesitant as he glanced uneasily at Hana. "I mean, imagine if this happened to Konoha."

"What, a war?" Hana scoffed. "We've been through one. We actually _contributed."_

"No, that's not what I mean," Shin frowned, resting his chin in the palm of his hand. "What if, say, Sand and Mist went to war, and they used our land and surrounding settlements as their battleground?"

"We would fight them off, of course," Hana answered hotly, crossing her arms. "Hokage-sama would never allow that."

"But Grass doesn't _have_ a kage, Hana-san. They just have a Daimyo, and a Hidden Village that answers to him. So what if we didn't have the organization or power to protect those settlements, and all we could do was leave them to get destroyed? What if Sand and Mist razed Konoha to the ground, and all of us were constantly scared and alone and wondering who was going to die next?" He looked down at his hands. "If we barely had the land and resources to bury our own dead, what would we do with Sand and Mist casualties?"

Hana stared at him for a moment.

"We would bury them, too," she answered quietly. "Because Konoha is better than that."

"Maybe," he answered slowly, but his expression was unsure. "I just think… if we were really trying to help these people, and I mean _really_ help, and get them back on their feet, then why were we the only ones sanctioned to come here? We're obviously the first non-hostile Konoha ninja they've seen since the war, and we didn't bring much."

"Does it matter?" she asked, folding her hands beneath her chin. "We came, didn't we? That's more than Stone and Mist or anyone else can say."

"Not their Canary," he argued quietly. "This legend or deity of theirs, this Canary, they go as far as to say she's the only help they need. Because she seemed real, and somehow convinced them that she cared, while we… we look fake. We look like we're just here on some half-assed PR mission."

Itachi suddenly stiffened, and Itsuki and Hana both glanced at the Uchiha, the latter only just realizing he hadn't said a word the entire time.

"Uchiha?" Hana questioned quietly, more of a silent question of whether or not he was okay than anything else, but he didn't look at either of them.

"I'm going to sleep," he informed them shortly, before walking to the corner and shaking out one of the blankets.

"Wait, Itachi-kun," Itsuki requested quietly. "Before you retire, could you please go over what you know of the hospital incident? You haven't mentioned anything that occurred after you left Midori-san behind with the horses."

Itachi hesitated, the blanket gripped tightly in his hands, before he took a deep breath and le t out a quiet sigh.

"Their _Canary_ is a liar and a murderer," he answered finally, slowly sitting back down on his futon. "I'll put everything in my report."

Then he rolled over and pulled his blanket over himself, facing the wall in silence.

"Oi, Itachi-san—"

"It's fine, Shin," Itsuki cut off the boy quietly. "We've all had a long day, so let's get our rest for now. We can talk again in the morning, when Midori-kun and Shiba-kun are ready to tell us what they know. There may very well be more to this story than we know."

Shin watched Itachi's prone form for a moment, his expression troubled, but he eventually nodded.

"Well… alright, then."

Itsuki dimmed the light, and they each tucked in for the night, slowly laying out their bedrolls for extra padding and settling in. Before long, the soft sound of Shin's snoring filled the silence, and Itsuki's slow, even breathing soon followed. Hana rolled onto her back, hands folded across her stomach, and stared up at the ceiling, her expression unreadable.

"I know you're awake, Uchiha," she finally murmured into the air, her voice quiet so as to not wake her team. "Spill."

"Why do I have to answer to you?" the cold, almost silent murmur reached her ears and she felt her lips press together. That didn't sound like the Itachi she knew. He was kinder than that, she knew it, so what was so wrong, that agitated him so much? What was he hiding, or at least, what was so terrible that he refused to talk about?

"You're worrying Shin and Sensei," she answered stubbornly, refusing to admit that she was more than a little worried herself. "Don't be selfish," she added as a second thought, because targeting his ethical code would probably be more effective. She heard him give a quiet sigh, and her eyes flicked over to him briefly.

"Do you remember the child that tried to steal from me earlier today?" he asked finally, and she hummed her assent. "Her name was Gina, and her mother was in that hospital."

"That child…?" she remembered the flash of scruffy dark hair and big brown eyes. That was the friend the boys had lost? She hadn't looked like a girl to Hana, but Itachi would know better than her. So that little girl was dead, and Midori and Shiba clearly were mourning her. And somehow, Itachi had a connection to what happened. If Gina died in the explosion, it probably would have been while she was visiting her mother. Hana didn't really like where this was going. "So she and her mother died in the fire?" she asked softly, rolling onto her side.

"No," came the pained reply. "Only the mother. Gina survived."

"What?" Hana sat up, turning to look at him. Itachi glanced at her from his position on his back, hands resting behind his head. He returned his gaze to the ceiling.

"I wanted to go and get her out, but someone was already there, uninjured and moving around inside."

"The Canary," Hana breathed, remembering his words before they'd gone to bed. He sighed.

"Yeah," he admitted quietly. "The Canary."

"So she's real," Hana mused, slowly laying back down. "What happened next?"

"I thought she would save Gina," Itachi replied, his voice so quiet Hana had to strain to hear him. "I actually believed that she was the legend everyone here said she was. Some kind of… hero, just in time to help."

Hana waited for him to finish, feeling apprehension begin to build in her gut, though she wasn't sure why.

"But no," his voice cracked on the last word. "Instead I watched her kneel by Gina with a knife and slowly cut her throat until she drowned in her own blood. She _killed_ her, so that there wouldn't be any survivors." Itachi closed his eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath, calming himself, before opening his eyes once more and meeting Hana's shocked gaze. "Now all of them are dead."

Hana swallowed the bile that was rising in the back of her throat.

"The Canary killed Gina," she repeated in a whisper, not knowing how to feel. What would happen when this village realized that their hopes and dreams resided in someone unworthy of them? Would they hunt down the Canary? Or would they just mourn yet another tragedy befalling their ramshackle little village?

Her head was beginning to hurt with all that was going on, and she couldn't even begin to imagine how Itachi must feel, having been so close and yet so unable to do anything but watch helplessly.

"You know it's not your fault, right, Uchiha?" she closed her eyes slowly, waiting for his response. "There was no way you could have helped without getting yourself killed."

"If I was stronger—" he began, but she snorted quietly, cutting him off.

"I hate to break it to you, but we're _seven._ No one expects us to be elite yet. We can help out and do as much as we can, but tonight, you did the best thing by surviving and making it back to us. Get that in your head, okay? Other people care about your life, too. So don't go selfishly acting reckless, just because you're a pretty smart guy for your age. Got it?"

There was a long silence, and she wondered if he might have fallen asleep, until finally, his barely audible response came.

"I won't fall for that kind of misguided belief again," he swore quietly, eyes burning into the ceiling. "Next time, I _will_ act."

She frowned a little, but didn't say anything. She would try to talk more sense into him later, but right now he was obviously upset, and she didn't want to get in a fight. Sensei had been right. It'd been a long day, and they needed their rest, Itachi most of all.

oOo

The next morning found the team of four up bright and early. Staying in a foreign place made for light sleep, and there was less grumbling than usual when dawn broke and they began to prepare for the day and their departure.

"Do you really think those boys will talk to us before they leave?" Shin yawned, rolling up his bedroll and placing it on top of his pack.

"Who knows?" Hana answered hefting her own pack onto her back. "One way to find out, I guess."

"Get your things together quickly," Itsuki advised. "I wouldn't want my cute Genin to be left behind."

Hana rolled her eyes, but picked up the pace anyways. The sooner this was over with, the sooner they could get back home, and the sooner she could shower, and the sooner she could grill Itachi over what was eating at him, though not necessarily in that order.

Breakfast found the four munching on some dried fruit Kama had left out for them, and by the time the sun was up, they were walking out toward the stables, shivering in the chilly air. They arrived with no interruptions, and Itachi wordlessly moved to feed and water the horses, his movements precise and practiced, but his thoughts clearly elsewhere.

Once the horses were hooked up to the near empty wagon, there was still no sign of the boys.

"Maybe they like to sleep in?" Shin suggested, once the last of their preparations was complete.

"Idiot," Hana scoffed. "They probably chickened out of it. Having a night to think over something horrible that happened doesn't exactly make people willing to talk about it the next day."

"We will wait for Kama-san," Itsuki informed them evenly, cutting off Shin before he had the chance to retort. "We will thank her for her hospitality and then take our leave, assuming that the distribution of the supplies amongst the civilians is going smoothly. If the boys decide not to accompany her or speak to us, that is their choice. Remember what we are here for."

Hana didn't really like Sensei's subtle hint that the boys' problems weren't their own, but technically it was true. They were here to finish a mission. But _still,_ if something was going on, they should try and do the _right_ thing. Or should they? Ninja code was a little blurred when it came to choosing between following orders and doing the morally correct thing. She would have to ask about that when she got home. In fact, there were a lot of things she needed to ask about when she returned, least of all the way of the proper ninja.

They made their way slowly back down the path in the general direction they had entered the settlement from, and it was not long before the sounds of people moving within their houses and preparing for another long day began to fill the air, accompanied with familiar grumbles and complaints concerning their new visitors.

"Glad to see you folks up and moving," Kama's voice cut into the morning air and the four turned to see the woman move toward them, leaning heavily on her cane. A new heaviness seemed to make the former beauty stoop just slightly lower, as if the deaths of the night before had a tangible weight. Shadows ringed her eyes, and her bony hands were white knuckled against the smooth wood of her hand carven support. Nevertheless, her voice was as sharp and snappy as usual, and Itsuki nodded a polite greeting, a wan smile touching his features.

"Kama-san," he greeted, "We were just about to take our leave, so long as distribution has continued without delay."

"Of course," she returned the smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Our population ain't what it used to be, so most deliveries stay local."

"I understand," Itsuki answered evenly, bowing his head. Some sort of mutual understanding seemed to pass between the two, and after a moment, he straightened. "Well, as Midori-kun and Shiba-kun have decided not to see us off, I suppose we have no business left to attend to." He smiled cheerfully at his Genin. "Shall we go?"

Itachi frowned and turned to face Kama.

"Are they alright?" he asked, an undercurrent of anxiety in his voice. Kama stared at him for a moment.

"Not yet," she told Itachi with an ancient sounding sigh. "But they will be, lad. The folks here are tough as nails, and just as sharp. They'll come to terms with it as they have everything else."

"And your legend," Itachi's expression was unreadable, but his dark eyes burned from beneath his forehead protector. "Where is she?"

Kama's eyes sharpened, but she dismissed his question with a wave of her hand.

"Who knows?" she answered mildly. "Long gone, if the past is any tell of her behavior."

"You've met this Canary, then, Kama-san?" Itsuki questioned, suddenly looking interested. Kama frowned at Itachi and Itsuki, and Shin looked back and forth between them, confused.

"I think it's time you folks take your leave," Kama answered calmly, before dipping her head politely. "Thank you for your kindness. We will not forget Leaf's compassion in the near future, I'm sure."

Itsuki nodded.

"Until next time, then," he replied with a smile, tipping his hat, and she stiffened almost imperceptibly before a forced grin made its way onto her features.

Shin's brow furrowed, trying to interpret the weird subtle cues and hints being dropped left and right before giving up with a sigh and turning to his teammates. _Them_ at least, he could understand. They began to walk through the main streets alone, leaving Kama standing near the steps they had first found her, cane clasped tightly in both hands.

She stood erect, waiting in silence as the wind blew wispy strands of greying hair around her features.

"Shiba, Midori," she called quietly, once she was sure the ninja were out of earshot. "It's not too late. If you wish to share the story with them, I won't stop you." Two young, dirt-smudged faces peeked out from the alleyway, eyes suspicious and careful.

"They wouldn't understand," Midori answered, staring after them with dark eyes. "Even if they're different… Canary-chan doesn't like the system, and they follow it."

"I think they would've helped," Shiba mumbled. "At least, that grey haired boy would've."

"Not gonna risk it, though," Midori glanced down at his brother. "If we were wrong, Canary-chan could get hurt." Shiba nodded slowly, his eyes growing sad.

"We can't let anything happen to Hime," he agreed, and they both turned to Kama. She nodded slowly, accepting their decision, and turned her gaze slowly to the sky.

 _Where will you fly to, now, Canary?_ She wondered, memories of the past echoing through her head and making her chest ache. _The path you are treading is a dangerous one, child._

oOo

Out of earshot for a normal person, perhaps, but from the distance they were at, Itachi heard the words the boys spoke with little difficulty. He allowed his chakra to return to normal, the energy enhancing his hearing slipping back to circulate regularly through his system.

"They don't know," he mumbled to Hana, his eyes lowered toward the ground. He tucked his hands into his pockets so that they couldn't see his hands curled into fists so tight they were shaking. "They still think that their _Canary_ is a hero."

A few people around them started, the passerby exchanging meaningful glances with one another and a few openly staring at the ninja as they walked toward the outskirts of the village.

Hana glanced at Itachi before returning her gaze forward. When she answered, her voice was just as low.

"Get a hold of yourself, Uchiha. We'll look into this once we get home, but for now, just get your shit together. We did our mission, our second C-rank, remember?"

"I know," he answered, calming himself until his voice was even and his hands relaxed. "But even so, it doesn't change the fact that they believe in a legend that is little more than a terrorist." The last word he spat, and Hana sighed, preparing to lecture the shit out of her comrade about priorities and things that should be best saved for later when an arrow came out of nowhere, slicing through the air toward her head.

She jerked back in the nick of time with a sharp intake of breath, the arrowhead just grazing her jaw, and then suddenly everyone _moved._

Itsuki had vanished and appeared in front of the three of them, crouching low in a defensive stance much more aggressive than any they'd seen before. Itachi had already pulled Hana behind him, glaring hard in the direction the arrow had come from, and after recovering from his initial shock, Shin had hesitantly drawn a kunai, his eyes flickering nervously back and forth, scanning the faces of the people around them.

Unfriendly, hard faces stared back at them, some openly angry, while others just pressed their lips together and turned away.

"What's their problem?" Shin asked in a low voice, an edge creeping into his tone. "We're leaving, aren't we?"

A shadow moved to their right, and sparks flew as Itsuki snapped forward with a kunai, its edge grating against a metal pipe held in the hands of one of the impromptu attackers. Another jumped out from behind the first, wielding knives in each hand, and lunged at Shin. The grey haired boy ducked between the man's legs, bewilderment and shock plainly on his face as he tried to get his bearings. Itsuki kicked the first attacker in the chest and sent him stumbling back, turning to descend upon Shin's attacker, when two more men darted in, targeting Hana and Itachi.

Itsuki let out a hissed curse, his hands flying together to form seals because they would _not_ touch his students so long as he lived, and concentrated his chakra to release a jutsu that would force them all back.

And then, just before he executed the technique, the three Genin acted.

Shin ducked beneath a blow and swept a leg beneath the knees of the knife user, sending the man toppling to the ground. Hana had managed to get herself tangled up in a brawl, and her attacker was scrabbling to get away as she aimed for his face repeatedly and unreservedly.

Itachi's face was pale and drawn, but set in determination as he dispatched the final opponent, executing a taijutsu form that resonated strongly with the Uchiha's advanced style. Even so, tension seemed to be rising in the boy, a quiet anger bubbling just beneath the surface as he subdued his opponent and turned to his teammates.

"Wind Release," Itsuki growled beneath his breath. "Heavy Blast." A condensed wall of air blasted outward, forcing two of their attackers to stumble back several paces. Itsuki turned to deal with Itachi and Shin's opponents as well, and his mouth went dry as Shin moved to attack and the man rolled, grabbing a corpse from the side of the road and raising it like a shield.

Unable to pull the attack, Shin's kunai sank into the corpse, and his face flooded white with horror when he realized what had just happened. He choked.

"Why would you—?!"

The man shoved the body forward, on top of a traumatized Shin, and the Genin panicked as the man took advantage of the diversion to attack with a shard of glass. Itsuki wasn't close enough to intervene in time.

A shadow flickered and suddenly Itachi was there, lips pulled back over his teeth in a snarl. He knocked aside the man's wrist with a well-aimed kick and jammed his elbow up into the man's throat, causing his head to snap backward with a grunt of pain.

He turned and kicked the corpse off of Shin, grabbing his teammate's hand and helping the shaking boy to his feet. The man came again, lunging toward the Genin, and Itachi reacted without even looking.

" _Enough_!" he snarled, kicking the man aside and sending him skidding across the street. "Enough have died already! The war is _over_!" He turned and glared over his shoulder at the man, who spat a gob of blood on the street and wiped his mouth angrily.

"Itachi…" Shin murmured. From a few feet away, Hana stared at the Uchiha, her eyes wide and worried.

"You've just lost your sick and injured, and now you're trying to kill us, too!" Itachi's eyes glittered with fury, his irises pulsing a deep maroon color.

"Where is your humanity?! Where is your compassion?" He landed, voice faltering as his words were met with stony glares.

" _Why don't you ask the Sanbi?"_ one of the men hissed back, and Itachi's head snapped around to face the source of the voice, eyes blazing red. The man recoiled slightly, fists loosening as his dark eyes met the feared Sharingan.

Itsuki tensed, and Shin gasped.

"Itachi, y-your eyes…" Shin hesitantly said aloud, but Itachi didn't even seem to hear him.

" _We are_ not _the Sanbi,"_ He hissed at the man. "And we are _not_ your enemy."

oOo

 **A/N: So Itachi somehow meets the benevolent legend, who isn't actually so benevolent. Itsuki acts like a total mother hen so that his Genin won't realize that he really is a mother hen and worries about them all the time. Students question the morals of their own village, and definitely want some answers from the Hokage.**

 **Also, mysterious father searching for his daughter. Gee, wonder who that could that be. Next chapter we see some more Kisame, and underground (potentially dangerous) allies are formed for better or for worse.**

 **I'm gonna try to figure out the beta thing. Only problem is that these chapters are hella long and will take time to edit. For now, mistakes are mine.**

 **Thoughts: What really happened between Itachi and the Canary?**


	6. Sheer Dumb Luck

Chapter 6 – Sheer Dumb Luck

oOo

Every single man and woman in the cave stiffened at the familiar sound of the terrifying monster that brought them food and water at the end of every day. He was early, and he was never early. Which meant he could have only come for one thing.

In the span of a moment, their hopes were brutally extinguished.

The grating sound paused, and the guard let out an exaggerated sigh.

"This fucking _sucks,"_ he grumbled, before the sound vanished all together and a haunting, pensive silence hung heavy in the air. He could be anywhere and everywhere, training rendering his footsteps noiseless. Fear sank into the Kaya's bones like icy venom.

"Stop!" the woman yelled hoarsely, breaking the silence though she knew it was hopeless. "She's just a child!"

The guard lunged for the girl like a viper, his hand snapping out to grab a fistful of her shirt. The little girl shrieked in terror and farted. There was a stunned silence as he tried to process the fact that he had inadvertently scared a kid into nearly soiling her pants, but she didn't seem as bothered as he was, taking full advantage of the opening and diving into him like a missile, head butting him in the groin and grabbing at his face. She jammed two fingers up his nose and yanked on his hair with her other hand, letting out a yelp of pain when he punched her in the side in bewildered instinct and sent her tumbling away.

As she struggled to breathe, barely moving on the ground, he noted somewhere in the back of his mind that her expression hadn't changed once since she attacked him. She was absolutely terrified, and her face showed it. But at the moment, he was seeing red and his nose was already swelling from the persistent violation. What the hell was this brat thinking? Did she want to go for his airway and then opt for the opening without sharp teeth? _Oh wait, they'd actually discussed this, hadn't they?_

But still, was she really stupid enough to try and _fight_ him?

He made another swipe for her, this time unsheathing his sword, and she dove between his legs. Having such a large weapon was turning out to be cumbersome and incredibly difficult to wield in such a small space. She scrambled for the tunnel she'd come in at, and he belatedly wished he hadn't closed off the entrance with a large boulder so that he could chase her down in the open.

Fortunately, she would reach a dead end and he could finish the job there. He heard her scrambling across the rock, scattering dirt and pebbles behind her, and heard an ominous crack from within the tunnel.

The low chasm shuddered, and dust sprinkled from the opening.

He slapped a hand against his forehead with a frustrated groan. _Of course_ , the boulder was putting too much pressure on the opening and threatening to cave it in. Of _fucking_ course. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now…

He'd love to leave her to die in the shuddering tunnel, but that would trap him in the damn cave, too.

He jammed his sword hilt down right next to the opening, using its wide blade to support the ceiling, and carefully climbed around it and into the tunnel after the infuriating girl. Samehada was still new to his hands, and wasn't always averse to eating his own chakra. Damn sword was still sorting out its loyalties after he'd killed its previous owner and his former master.

He heard her squeak of fear when she reached the end and found only darkness and solid rock. Kill her and then move the rock. It was really simple in his head. He couldn't possibly mess this up. He palmed a knife and zeroed in on her, instincts sharpening as they always did before a kill.

And then she screeched, loud and obnoxious, the sound so loud and high it actually _hurt_ as it reverberated in the closed in space, and the next thing he knew flat teeth were sinking into his ankle.

The pain shed a new light on the fear people must feel when seeing his teeth. There was no pain quite like being bitten, and this brat had her mouth clamped down on his leg as if her jaws were made of steel. He kicked the offending girl off, shaking his leg, and in the slippery tunnel, upset his footing and was sent skidding backwards.

He felt her let go and heard her land on all fours, scrabbling for purchase on the slippery walls so that she didn't follow him down. Then he slammed straight into his own sword.

Samehada was strong, and didn't budge from its place lodged in the cave. Instead, he immediately felt the massive depletion of his chakra stores like a heavy blow to the gut, leaving him immediately exhausted and drained.

Seriously? Was this for fucking real? He let out a jumbled curse, disoriented and pissed. _He'd had a plan. A simple plan._

Screw enclosed places, and little brats, and giant swords that couldn't figure out their own _fucking_ meals.

The little girl braced her hands on either side of her, eyes wide as saucers, and watched as the giant guard tumbled backwards and hit his own weapon. She watched him slump immediately, like he'd just turned into a rag doll rather than a functioning person, and then let out a startled intake of breath when the sword sank into the earth, its edge suddenly much sharper, and the guard's head slipped and smacked against the ground with a sickening crack.

Blood leaked onto the cave floor.

She slowly climbed down and edged around him, her eyes worried and scared. Had he just… died?

His eyes were closed, but she couldn't tell.

"Hurry, little one," Kaya whispered urgently from the far wall, breaking the stunned silence. "Before he wakes up, free one of us and we can bind him to the wall." She nodded slowly, dazed, and walked back over to the wall, lifting the keys from a ring hanging tauntingly across from the prisoners.

The boss was a cruel man indeed.

"That was the dumbest luck I might've ever seen in my life," the other man muttered in awe.

"What a moron," voiced another.

Her voice spread soothingly through the air as she went from one to the next, freeing each captive one by one and singing to herself to help calm her nerves and steady her shaking hands.

" _Kiri had a little bird with feathers bright and yellow_

 _He flew quite fast and spread the word to his shinobi fellows_

 _The sweetest notes he always sung with messages to carry_

 _But he spread lies and he was hung, the sweet little canary."_

The song sounded melancholy and creepy in the cave as it echoed in the dark, rather than a soothing song for upset infants as it was intended to be. The irony of the old lyrics was not lost on her as she moved from captive to captive.

She caught one of the younger boys as he collapsed to the ground the moment his shackles were opened, cradling his head in her lap, humming softly as she patted his hair, probably the first gentle touch he'd received in days.

His eyes slowly opened, staring into her own, unfocused gaze tracing the small upward curve of her lips as she smiled gently at him. The expression was almost unbearably cute, and he found his lips parting to return the smile automatically.

The man who had spoken earlier rubbed his wrists and took it upon himself to drag the guard over to the wall and latch one of the shackles around his wrist.

Another few people gathered together to remove the boulder closing off the entry way, grunting with the effort but eventually shoving the blockage aside.

"Who are you?" Kaya walked over to her, rubbing the circulation back into her hands and crouching down to help lift the boy into a sitting position. The girl just smiled and kept humming, before standing slowly and stretching, her body suddenly feeling very achy and tired. Maybe it was the climate?

"I haven't decided yet," she answered simply, because man was _that_ a loaded question, and then helped herself to a small barrel filled with stagnant water at the corner of the dimly lit enclosure.

An older man was sitting cross legged on the ground, his eyes following her as she washed her face and plopped down onto the ground with a satisfied sigh.

"You have our deepest gratitude, little Canary," he rumbled, his eyes ancient and tired. "Because of you, the darkness of Kiri will once again see a ray of hope."

She blinked at him once.

"I was just hungry," she answered him truthfully. She hadn't been trying to be a hero or anything, she'd just done what she was asked to and then went the extra mile when she saw people getting hurt. They were like the gentle rabbits, helpless and afraid, but now they were free, and they would be able to help themselves. Maybe every once in a while, they would remember this and even help her.

If he was confused by her statement, he didn't show it. Instead, he ran a hand through his thinning hair with a deep sigh.

"Are you guys gonna go back with me?" she asked curiously, and he turned toward her.

"Back where, Canary-chan? We've lost our homes to war."

"Back to Mei, of course," she answered matter-of-factly. "So that you can keep tending to your 'simple market'." She snickered, and a wan smile touched his lips. _Clever child,_ he thought _,_ _how much have you learned on your little journey?_

"A few may wish to stay behind and start new lives, or perhaps search for the children," he told her quietly, his eyes suddenly ancient and sad. Next to him, the girl stilled, and after a moment she repeated the word as a soft question.

"Children?"

"Has Mei told you much of underground workings, Canary-chan?" he asked, glancing at the little girl with open curiosity. A few minutes earlier and he would have laughed at the very notion that someone so small could understand anything of the world. And yet, a grown man had been taken down and an entire group of smugglers freed because of the actions of a toddler.

Dumb luck, yes, absolutely. But it took wit to make it this far into Kiri alive. He'd seen many a child prodigy in the war, from Leaf's Yellow Flash to Kiri's famous hunter-nin Ao to Suna's wielder of the Gold Dust. All had shown intelligence far too young, and been matured by war. She was just another among hundreds with that frightening potential. He wondered how many people wished to claim and mold it. The very thought made his head ache.

"No. I invited myself," she answered childishly, and he might've chuckled if the thought of caged children were not so vivid in his mind.

"Wave is known mostly for drug smuggling, Whirlpool weapons, and both have certain groups that handle different aspects of their trade. It's a complex business, and quite dangerous. Kiri, however, is by far the worst. Their acts are the most morally reprehensible, especially as Kiri is famous for its red light district, though naturally I wouldn't expect you to know much about what _that_ is. Probably for the best, considering."

She glanced at him and just shrugged. She was practically raised in one before Anbu-san came along, but he didn't really need to know that. He waited for a moment, his eyes growing distant.

"Kiri is the hub for human trafficking," he murmured, and she stiffened. "They're selling babies?" She asked softly, and he shrugged, mildly impressed that she'd made the leap in logic. Or perhaps she already knew what it was. He wouldn't put it past Mei to educate a smart girl of any age.

"Infants, kids, teens, anyone they can train up for the business." The man's voice filled with controlled anger as he spoke, letting the bottled up anxiety and frustration flow from his lips in the form of bitter words. "The man in charge here was planning to steal an entire class of Academy kids, pick 'em up as they filtered in the classroom and then blow up the place to make it look like one huge disaster, but one of the students found out."

The man sighed.

"And isn't that just awful, Canary-chan? Kidnap an entire class of future soldiers, make it look like collateral damage of the war, and sell 'em off to the worst kind of people this nation has ever seen?"

The man hesitated, because the girl was so very still, her eyes distant, and for the first time he'd seen, she wasn't smiling. Perhaps it was wrong of him to vent his frustrations on a child after being chained in captivity for so long, to force this burden on a little person that couldn't possibly do anything about it. But who else would listen? The other ex-captives already knew, and were done discussing it until it was time to take action. So, for his own selfish reasons, he continued.

"That one boy, the one that found out about the scheme… he took the bodies of the children that had died in the war, several of whom were just left to rot in the slums in piles and piles… orphans who starved, and child soldiers cut down… and he cut them up and dragged them in the classroom, so mauled up they weren't even recognizable as students anymore. He did that in the night, and told his class to hide. When the teachers finally came in, he was standing there alone, covered in blood, surrounded by war corpses, and he told them he'd killed his class to prove himself worthy of being a Genin."

The man slammed his fist against his knee, trembling in rage. She jumped at the sudden movement, startled after being so lost in the story.

"Bloody fools, the teachers were. Ate his story right up. Bragged that he was the strongest of the generation, pretended to mourn the class that had been 'cut down', and immediately gave him a spot in the Genin corps. The kid was only nine years old."

There was a brief silence as she absorbed the disturbing story.

"The teachers like it when their students kill each other?" she asked quizzically, her head tilting to the side, and the man shook his head in silent dismay.

"And they wonder why our village lacks loyalty," he muttered bitterly.

"What happened to the class that boy saved?" she asked, and knew she had hit the heart of the man's tale as his face seemed to age right before her eyes.

"He brought them to a settlement in the outskirts of Kiri, but the boss found out and attacked him, almost killing the poor kid. The only one he was able to save was Mei, and in return Mei healed him and swore she would never stop hunting that man down. That bastard got the kids, though. He took them all, and he's just waiting for them to become old enough to sell."

"Do you know where?" she asked curiously, her head tilting to one side. He blanched, his face draining of color. "Even if I did, I wouldn't tell you, Canary-chan! You're younger than they are, how could you possibly—?!"

"Ossan, I just asked if you knew where they were," she said bluntly, cutting him off. "I'm not saying I'm gonna go running around a village of child-killers." Of course, she never said she wasn't going, either.

He flinched slightly at the bluntness with which she used the term, but there was no denying the truth of it. He offered a nervous chuckle and ran a hand through his grimy hair.

"Ah… ah yes, of course," he answered weakly. "I can't be certain, but it would have to be somewhere near him. He has to keep them alive, and that includes tending to their basic needs." He looked down at his hands. "All an old man like me can do is pray for those poor souls."

"What the _hell_ are you filling this girl's head with?" Kaya approached suddenly and laid a gentle hand on the girl's shoulder, glaring daggers at the man. "A story like that is nothing a child like her should be learning of! What kind of sick old man are you, huh? You'll give her nightmares of cages and predators, you will!"

The old man let out a rattling sigh before meeting the woman's cold grey eyes.

"Ah, but Miss, little Canary-chan has already traveled through Mist once, and she has yet to return. I'd fancy ignorance wouldn't suit her very long."

"Telling her of tortured children will take her farther then?" she snapped, and the man winced. "We've been here a long time," Kaya continued after a pause. "I understand that there are things the world needs to know, that we haven't been allowed to tell." Her hand tightened on the girl's shoulder. "But _this,"_ she hissed, "…is not the world. She is a child, and you owe her your _life._ Don't leech the sanity from her mind with the bloody tales we have suffered over in silence. No human being deserves that."

The old man slowly lowered his eyes, the words hitting home.

"I understand," he answered in a heavy voice. "My apologies, Canary-chan, it wasn't my place."

She just shrugged.

"S'okay. I already know what predators are anyways."

Both the man and Kaya stiffened almost imperceptibly, their expressions mirroring one another, equal parts surprise and worry. She pushed herself to her feet and crossed her arms with a huff, glancing around the enclosure and the listening to the faint sound of rain echoing from the surface.

"Let's wait till tomorrow to go back to Mei," she suggested suddenly, trying not to whine because she barely knew these people, but she still did _not_ want to travel back to her campsite damp and freezing. They could call her selfish if they wanted, but she was _tired_ of this dreary weather. No one refuted her suggestion, surprising her a little, because so far, most of the people she knew weren't too interested in listening to a four year old's opinion. Maybe they were tired, too.

Unbeknownst to her, majority of them agreed out of newfound respect, strange as it was. Limited due to her age, yes, because she was just a little kid after all, but even so, after all this time, she was the only one that had come for them. Not Mei, not the boy who saved and lost the children, but this scrawny, adorable brat, who traipsed in like she owned the place and set them all free.

Their gratitude belonged to her, even if she didn't know it.

oOo

That night, when soft snores filled the large cavern, a tiny figure tip-toed through a maze of sleeping bodies, dancing around fingers and taking care not to step on any toes. She remembered the words of the man she had met with, and suddenly did not think so kindly of him.

 _Perhaps if you were interested, you could join my collection. It is not a boring life, I assure you, little one._

The bastard kept them all beneath his very own house, tucked away and safe right beneath his nose.

"Sneaking off, eh?"

She whirled around, jumping in fright, only to meet the cold eyes of one very irritated guard. He was leaning against the wall, hands still shackled, but now that he was awake, the metal around his wrists suddenly didn't look so strong.

"Y-you can't hurt me," she told him, trying to convince herself. "…or stop me," she added, because that sounded much less wimpy.

"Maybe not, but he fuckin' will."

He had to be talking about the boss. There was no other 'he' that they both knew.

"You couldn't," she mumbled in spite of herself, and to her surprise, the guard snorted, cracking a smile.

"Yeah, you're right," he muttered, shaking his head. "You got me good."

She eyed him suspiciously and he raised his shackled hands.

"You won. I'm not a sore loser. That guy, though, he is. And revenge ain't gonna get you shit."

A strange expression crossed her face.

"Revenge?" she repeated. "I'm going to get the kids."

He didn't look confused, per se, because he was likely trained to hide emotion better than that, but a flicker of something uncertain crossed his eyes.

"Kids?" he questioned gruffly, and she nodded.

"I won't let you stop me, Sharky," she told him gravely, and he blanched at the nickname.

"Kisame," he corrected automatically, but she continued anyways, ignoring him as if he hadn't spoken.

"Black market trade has morality in shades of grey, but human trafficking is _black._ I am going to get those little kids out or die trying, and once I make it out, I _will_ come back, even if it's years from now, and I will tear that man and his business to pieces."

She smiled, and a wicked sort of glee glittered in her eyes, the same look he had borne when he killed his master. He felt an involuntary shiver.

She crept toward the hole when he didn't answer, but paused at the opening.

"Did you know?" she asked in quiet voice. "About the little kids?" She would take his word for it either way, because trust came easier when you were little and logic was straightforward.

"No," he answered honestly, feeling a small trickle of discomfort himself. He'd been told that weapons were the only dealings taking place, not that it was any of his business at all. He was paid to kill, not know things. He watched her nod shortly and then crawl out, leaving him behind, and he wondered if perhaps he really had fulfilled his final order by letting her go.

oOo

The little girl crept back to the boss's home in the dead of night and walked around the house slowly, making a full perimeter to check for any obvious ways to get in. That guy must have been pretty confident in his trade and secrets, because she didn't run into any guards or trigger any traps or anything. Which was kind of weird for a man of the underworld, but she attributed it to overconfidence in his abilities and powers. Must be pretty easy to get that way when you could kill a leak with a wave of your hand.

She shuddered and trapped off that train of thought firmly. Was it just her, or was Anbu-san's dreariness wearing off on her? She dearly hoped not, and wondered if she could convince Anbu-san to visit with Junko again, so that the woman's snarkiness might catch instead. She kicked a rock dully, her lips forming an angry pout.

If she ever saw that stupid bastard again, anyways. The rock landed with a quiet plop into the man's pond, and then she jumped when a solid clunk followed immediately. She rapidly whipped her head around, freezing like a cornered deer as she searched for anyone who might have heard the noise.

Then her eyes slowly turned to the shimmering black water. That was _not_ a natural sound for a pond to make. Wrinkling her nose in distaste (because it was _cold_ in Mist, and the water was even colder), she reached her arm into the water around where the stone had fallen. Her hand almost immediately brushed metal slick with algae and she wrenched her arm back in surprise. There was a _door_ right there.

Leave it to a Mist civilian to hide their merchandise in the water.

She hesitantly reached down again and wrapped her hand around a metal bar that could only be a handle, and then pulled.

It didn't budge. Steeling herself, she yanked. It groaned, and then rose smoothly, like a well-oiled machine, and opened automatically after the initial tug. Rather than open and allow the water to pour in like she had expected, a metal cylinder slid from the water and rose out of the pond. On the top side of the flat handle, she saw a small pattern of strange black markings arranged in a circle.

 _Words_? She wondered, because despite her dumb luck and supposed abilities, she couldn't read. Or was it something else?

"If you were so eager to join my collection, you could have just told me, little one."

A pleasantly calm voice cut through the air like a razor blade. She shrieked and whirled around, feeling her heart stop dead before it remembered how to beat again and did so at an alarming rate. The boss grabbed her upper arm and she sank her teeth into his wrist, making him rip his hand back furiously.

She bolted, and she was much, much faster than she once was, feeling his fingers brush her collar as she poured on all of the speed she possessed and slipped from his grip. Anbu-san was a total dick, but she thanked her lucky stars he had trained her body to unnatural speeds. Then she felt a projectile slam into her head and she crashed face first into the ground.

Her gaze blurred and then focused on a blood spattered stone even with her nose on the ground.

The bastard hit her with a _rock_. She felt a hand close around her upper arm and drag her away, the once pleasant voice now muttering curses as he dragged her into the cylinder and pressed his thumb against the markings. There was a faint blue pulse and the door opened with a hiss as she was dragged inside.

Her vision tilted sideways and unfocused as she tried to gain her bearings, but everything around her was moving, even the floor, and wow, this hurt a ton more than when her house had collapsed. Then all of a sudden she was kicked out into a large cavern. She tumbled across the floor and slammed into a row of metal bars.

Tears sprang to her eyes as she gasped for air, curling into a shaking ball.

"I think you'll enjoy being part of my collection," the man murmured calmly, walking toward her. She tried to scramble away but the pain in her back flared, making her cry out. She slowly turned her head toward the bars and her mouth fell open, her breath leaving her in a choked gasp.

Two dozen pairs of eyes stared back at her dolefully. Children sat huddled in twos and threes, thin as rails and hugging their knees. She jumped as she heard the metal clang of a door being unlocked and the whine of rusty hinges as she was lifted off her feet by the back of her shirt and tossed inside with them. She hit the ground with a grunt, her cheek scraping against the earth as she forced her head to turn to the side and meet the man's gaze, a wild look starting to creep into her expression.

"Not big on being held captive, I see," he noted as she wrapped a hand around one of the cold bars and stared at him with cold, angry eyes. "You'll quickly adjust."

He turned, and didn't see her speak in a low voice. He didn't see her whisper two sentences to the children at least twice her age, and didn't see them stiffen. He certainly didn't see the dim hope that fluttered in their dead gazes, bringing them back to life.

" _Please go along with me. Mei sent me to bring you home."_

The whisper carried throughout the children like water through a stream, and in a single moment, all eyes were on her. Then she lunged onto the nearest kid and bit down hard on her tongue. Blood filled her mouth and dripped from her chin, splattering his neck as she whispered feverishly into his ear.

" _Dead,"_ she hissed, and his eyes widened before he let out a very realistic gurgle and dropped like a stone, his throat stained red.

Then the children started panicking, and the man turned. What he did see made the blood drain from his face. He saw a demon awaken within a little girl as a six year old boy dropped from her mouth with a gurgle, the flesh of his throat ripped out by her fangs. He saw her snarl as she descended on an eight year old girl, rolling under the terrified child's clumsy block and pulling her backwards, forcing her off balance as she grabbed the girl's head and jerked it to the side. There was a sickening snap as the girl's eyes fluttered closed and she fell, facedown and unmoving. His mouth parted to release a furious roar as four of the kids desperately tried to grab her, to control her, and she slammed the first's head into the ground with a crunch, letting out a scream to answer his roar.

He didn't see her spit on the boy's neck, or hear her pop her fingers as she pulled the girl's head to the side, or shove the boy's head onto the soft flesh of her own hand, crushing the bones of her palm with a crunch.

He just heard her wail of pain as a challenge to him, to everything he worked for, and he saw red as he wrenched the door open and grabbed her, kicking and screaming, and tore her off of a nine year old girl, her face coated in a layer of sticky blood, her eyes open and staring. He ripped the demon away, coated in blood that wasn't hers, (but it was) and wrenched the door open.

" _Filthy animal!"_ he roared at her, dragging her out and crashing her against the bars. She let out a scream of pain and he fumbled to lock the door before pocketing the key and dragging her upstairs out of the only other exit. She reached with her good hand and caught the ring on her little finger, pulling the keys to her mouth and biting down on the cold metal. In his rage, the man didn't even notice. She let her mangled hand fall limp, blood dripping from her fingers. She forced her eyes to stay open as he made his way up a staircase, panting and disheveled, and watched him lift a hatch. They emerged into his home, another exit thoughtlessly revealed, and he dragged her to the back, trailing blood, and stopped when he reached his yard, icy water lapping peacefully a couple feet away from his toes.

"Die in the wild where you belong," he snarled, throwing her with renewed vigor into the freezing pond.

oOo

The icy plunge soothed her aching bruises but was like a gunshot to her head, filling her mouth and ears and nose and stealing the warmth from her body. She thrashed and flailed, teeth clenched tight around the piece of metal that could save the children, and her tears and blood mixed with the brackish water as she felt the life begin to leave her body. Bubbles streamed from her lips and pressure crushed her lungs from all side, making her chest involuntarily spasm and seize.

 _Drowning,_ the thought barely registered as she kicked futilely, her shoes filling with water and weighing her down. _I'm drowning._

Then her thrashing limbs smacked against a cold handle.

The metal was slick with algae, but she clung to it like the lifeline it was, dragging her body forward until her neck and chin met cold mud. She dragged herself with her hands, one ruined, onto the bank, mud sliding against her skin and working itself into her clothes. She puked water from her lungs until her throat was raw and bloody, sucking in ragged gulps of air.

Too much, she thought dimly. That was too much for her body to take. She'd reached her limit. She gagged suddenly, and her tongue pushed a cold lump of metal from her mouth and into the grass. She stared at the key blearily, surprised that she hadn't swallowed it.

(She actually had swallowed it, and then vomited it back up seconds later, but she was far past noticing such things.)

 _Children_ , her thoughts whimpered to her. There were children waiting for her. The man was nowhere in sight, but she could distantly hear him by the mountains, calling for his guard. He wasn't in the house, and he wouldn't be for a while. This was her only slim chance, so why wouldn't her body _move?!_

She crawled, dragging herself across the freezing ground, and stumbled back into the house, freezing at the unexpected blast of warmth. It brought fresh pain to her fingers and toes, and her eyes filled with tears as she collapsed in the front room, her hands sweeping across the floor where she remembered the hatch was, because she had forced herself to stay conscious. Just like she was now.

Her bleeding fingers found a notch, and she scratched at it until it cracked open. She shoved it halfway open and wriggled through, falling with a grunt and tumbling down the stairs with no energy to catch or stop herself.

She raised her head groggily, staring at the bars of the despicable prison, and saw the children huddled near the door, their eyes wide and disbelieving, several spattered in some way with her blood. She spat the key into her hand and listlessly threw it toward them. It landed about a foot from her face. Ugh.

She groaned, picked it up, and hurled it at the bars. The boy with blood on his neck picked it up wordlessly, and stared at her with huge brown eyes.

"Are you a god?" he whispered reverently, taking in the fragments of ice in her hair and the blood soaking her mouth and hands. One of the older children rapidly took the key from him and unlocked the door, herding them out.

"There's no time," she hissed. "She gave us a chance, so you fools better take it." The girl nodded to the limp four year old. "Grab her, and let's go."

The young boy wordlessly pulled the girl onto his back and trotted up the stairs, the other children close behind. They ran out of the house, following the girl's weak hand as she pointed in the right direction, and the last few kids paused to erase the tracks of blood trailing from the pond to the house.

At some point along the way, the girl lost consciousness, and they were forced to take shelter in the mountains without directions to follow. They found the best buffer from the wind that they could, and huddled together as a full group for once, rather than their separated twos and threes they had formed while caged and trapped with a fate outside of their control.

"We can't stay here long," one boy hissed, huddling closer to the center of the group. "That shark freak and the boss will be on our trails in less than a day."

"We have nowhere to go, and she can't travel much farther," a young girl piped up, resting a hand on the little girl's head. "She needs help."

"No one in Kiri will help children meant to be sold as merchandise," an older boy stated calmly. "If she has no sanctuary for us, we will have to find our own way."

"We _aren't_ merchandise," the girl shot back with a surprising amount of venom. "We're training to be soldiers."

"You were trained to be a slave," the boy shot back shamelessly. "Everyone thinks our class is dead."

"There's no point in arguing," the boy carrying her sighed, reaching out to hold the girl's ice cold hand. "We have to wait until she wakes up, and if she can't help, we'll have to find another way to get back to Mei and Zabuza. We don't have much of a choice right now, and there's no way we can leave her behind. We owe her everything."

"She's barely a pup herself," the older boy answered, his eyes darkening. "What if she doesn't wake up?" There was a pensive silence that followed.

In the end, he received no answer.

oOo

The little girl heard muted whispers as her head throbbed, and her hand flared, and her back _ached._

"… _have to protect…"_

"… _he's too close…"_

"… _you four, go… false trail…"_

Her eyes slowly cracked open, and she squirmed, not knowing why it was so hard to move, but stopped when she realized she was wrapped up in several cloaks. She felt a burning hot hand squeeze hers and she blearily shifted her eyes to meet warm brown ones.

"I'm glad you woke up," he whispered, and she remembered. This was the boy with the ridiculous idea that she had been a god. She tried to laugh, but instead, for some reason, her eyes pooled with tears and she began to silently cry.

"Hey, it's okay," he said simply, brushing her tears away with his free hand. "The boss is angry, but we're setting false trails. We'll keep you safe, just like you saved us." He smiled at her. "You're pretty brave for such a little kid, arentcha?"

And that just made her cry harder, but she smiled a little, too.

"I'm Kaoru," he offered, and she hiccupped before finally managing to speak without her words coming out in a jumbled mess.

"Hi, Kaoru," she smiled weakly. "I'm glad you're okay."

"I could say the same for you," he returned, appalled.

"Kaoru," one of the older boys barked, and the boy's head turned. "The rest of us are gonna have to go. The boss is hunting them down too fast, and we need more trails."

"She's awake now," Kaoru protested. "We can't leave!"

A startled look crossed the boy's gaze as he briefly met her eyes, his face crumpling with indecision.

"We owe you our lives," he murmured softly to her. "We cannot thank you enough. It's our turn to protect you now, but we have to leave and come back."

She stared at him with swollen eyes and puffy cheeks, looking ridiculous bundled up in all of their cloaks, and he snorted and cracked a smile.

"We promise, Nee-chan, we're gonna come back and get you." His features hardened and he turned to Kaoru. "C'mon. Time to go."

"There's a cave," she blurted, panicking, because what if she died while they were gone? Where would they go? Her efforts would be wasted. "In the mountains behind the house. The rocks are shaped funny. Like noodles." She paused and drew in a breath. "There's a hole, and I fell in it." The boys glanced at each other and then gave her a strange look, probably wondering if her condition was making her ramble nonsense. "People there will help," she explained. "They're going back to Mei, too."

Understanding flickered across their faces and Kaoru grinned cheerfully.

"Then you can show us the way as soon as we come back for you," he answered, and squeezed her hand once before joining the older boy and following him out. She let out a heavy breath, and descended into a fit of coughing that left stains of blood on the cloaks and the ground. Her breath fogged up into the air, and she slumped against the mountain side, distantly hoping the wind wouldn't blow unfavorably. Despite the cloaks and the protective mountain range, her body was steadily cooling, and her teeth rattled her skull with her incessant chattering.

Hours passed.

It was cold. A kind of bitter, painful cold that stole the warmth from every vein in her body, every pore in her skin, and allowed the icy stiffness of sluggish blood to spread from her fingertips and toes toward her core.

She could feel a bit of warmth in her stomach, a tiny pool among her stiff and frozen limbs, and she felt it flare as she exhaled a tiny wisp of air through blue lips. Her frozen eyelashes fluttered as her eyes began to close, and she imagined she could move the warmth, and spread it out, through her chest and down her arms, swirling in the pools of her feet and glowing in her face.

The warmth followed her mental commands, and it made her crack a hysterical smile, because now she was certain she must be dying, or losing her touch with reality, because it almost felt like she had control over her body's heat, and wasn't that just a ridiculous thought?

Flakes of crystallized water showered from the sky with little flurries swept in spirals by the wind through the mountains, and she remained transfixed by the sight. It was her first time seeing snow, and even in her state, it was more beautiful than she could have possibly imagined. Her breath left her lips like a dying gasp, and the air fogged in swirls that matched the delicate crystals.

This wasn't a bad way to die, she thought vaguely. She'd saved lives. That was… that was pretty darn good for a four year old, right?

And Anbu-san… well, she still thought he was a jerk, but she couldn't bring herself to hate him now. If he hadn't left, she would have never interfered with a morally fucked up trade, would have never saved prisoners used for sabotage, would have never freed an entire class of children from predators, would have never seen snow…

But he was still a total dick for just abandoning her.

She heard footsteps crunching over half frozen grass, and her half lidded eyes took in a pair of thick leather sandals. Those were ninja shoes, she thought dully. So someone was sent to finish her off after all. That boss sure didn't mess around, did he? Followed every loose end all the way to their death. Paranoid psycho, he was. She waited for a blow that didn't come and instead almost cried out when arms slid underneath her body and lifted her into the air. Her cold and numb body suddenly burned as stress was put on it once more.

She would've wailed out if she'd had the energy to do anything more than breathe shallow puffs of icy air.

"Fuckin' moron," she heard grumbled into the air before her vision slid sideways into darkness.

oOo

"Canary-chan!" arms suddenly gripped her shoulders, pulling her up, and she felt her neck protest as her head fell back, and she released her grip on the warmth in surprise. It slowly drew back to her belly, and she wondered if this was death.

If so, then why was she still so cold?

Her eyes opened unwillingly, her vision slow to focus, and once it finally did, she was back in the original cave, where adults were still sitting, unchained, most now huddled around her.

"Wusgoinon?" she slurred, her voice coming out gravelly and weak.

"What _happened_ to you?! Canary-chan, you… we thought you were dead! And instead you come back, with—with…" The woman, Kaya, she remembered, trailed off, and fat, hot drops fell on the girl's face. Belatedly, she realized the woman was crying.

She blinked, her eyes widening.

"Kids," she mumbled, craning her neck to look around. "Kaoru'n the resht?" Man, she sounded awful, croaking out words like an incoherent frog. The woman wiped at her eyes and lifted the little girl into a sitting position so that she could see a full set of awkward children sticking together by the wall, a few of them edging as close to her as they could without garnering too much of the adults' attention.

"Nee-chan?" A hesitant voice called, and she locked eyes with the older boy that had promised to come back, with Kaoru at his side.

"Ahh," she raised a hand weakly, and then glanced at her bloodied fingers, a funny expression crossing her face as she wiggled them. "Ew," she mumbled, because they looked really gross, but her other hand was bandaged, and didn't feel too terrible at all. Which was really weird, because she was almost positive she had crushed it, and had done some nasty damage to her ribcage as well.

"How do you feel, Nee-chan?" Kaoru asked, walking over to her and crouching next to Kaya.

"Ehhh…" she let her hand drop, and felt a new appreciation for Kaoru's willingness to hold it. "Confused?" she confessed. "Why're yuheere?" And of course, her words still weren't quite up to par with her head.

"We found this place easy, with your directions," he told her. "We _were_ trained in the basics, and stuff. But once we checked it out to make sure it was safe to bring you there, well… you were already here. Just kinda… passed out by the hole."

"Uhhh…" she squinted, trying to remember, but thinking made her head hurt, so she aborted that train of thought quickly.

"We brought you in, and one of these old guys knows medical ninjutsu!" one of the younger girls piped up, making the confused girl smile weakly.

Well, that was nice. That was why she didn't feel like a complete and total train wreck. She just felt like… half a train wreck. A partial train wreck. A train fender bender.

Yeah, that sounded about right. What was a fender again?

"You shouldn't have gone, Canary-chan," an ancient voice rumbled to her left, and she met the gaze of the old man, who had tears slipping down his cheeks and into his long beard. "You shouldn't have gone, and I'll never forgive myself for letting you go, but…" he smiled at her, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I'm glad you did."

A warmth that had nothing to do with hallucinations of controlling her body heat filled the girl's stomach, and she smiled.

"It's time to leave if you feel up to it," the woman was telling her. "Somehow, Hoshigaki escaped in the night, so he and the boss could be here at any moment. We know a safe path through the mountains, a shortcut back to Whirlpool, but we can wait a bit longer if you need to rest."

"Nahs'kay," she mumbled, not even caring that the guard with the cool teeth was gone. It was so low on her priorities it was almost laughable. "Lesgo," she cheered dully, raising a hand in an attempt to be enthusiastic. Kaoru snorted, and wordlessly pulled her onto his back, daring anyone to take the job away from him with a glare. She locked her arms around his neck and snuggled into his warm shoulder.

"Alright then," the woman huffed, a small smile touching her lips. "Let's go home."

The journey was slow and uneventful.

Actually, to be perfectly honest, she slept about ninety percent of the way, her exhaustion warring with her hunger but winning out in the end. She couldn't remember the last time she'd eaten, and thinking about it made her sad enough to start crying again.

It was the little things, you know?

She did try to learn the names of most of the adults and children, just because in her mind, they were all friends now, since they'd all had an adventure together, and she should know the names of her friends.

She learned that Kaoru's older friend was named Muku, and that he was a compulsive worrier. Kaoru kept snickering about how guilty Muku felt leaving her behind, and how he wouldn't shut up about it the whole time they'd spent leaving false trails. That made _her_ feel guilty, because she'd only come to help them out, so why was he being all backwards and worrying about her?

It didn't make sense.

Still, it was nice that an eight year old was on her side. He had a good four years on her, and the early training to back it up. It was reassuring. Kaoru was only two years older, but he still kept her company and didn't complain once the whole time he carried her, rejecting all of Muku's offers to switch out with him.

So they were both pretty strong, but she supposed that couldn't be helped, considering they'd spent a couple of semesters at Mist's Ninja Academy. She didn't even _want_ to know what kind of horrid training they did to end up like that giant of a guard. It made her feel better about her crazy agility exercises, but only a little.

"Nee-chan?" Muku asked hesitantly, once she woke up from a rather long nap. They had rented boats a little while ago, courtesy of the old man stealing Hoshigaki's pocket change before he escaped, and were steadily paddling across the ocean toward Whirlpool.

"Uhh?" she mumbled drowsily, rubbing her eyes. Muku smiled a little, because really, it was unfair how sweet she looked, and he had no idea how that guard could bring himself to attack her.

"How'd you think of that plan so fast?" he asked.

"What plan?" she blinked blearily, frowning at the shooting hunger pains in her belly.

"Y'know, the one where you were pretending to kill us so that the boss would take you out. Like… like two wild animals that shouldn't be put in the same cage together, y'know? Did you plan all that out?"

She frowned, thinking about it as she blinked the last of her drowsiness away. No, not really, was the truthful answer, because she hadn't even gone to Mist with the intention of walking straight into the hub for human trafficking. She remembered the story of the little boy who dragged corpses into his school and insisted that he had taken their lives, and had come to the obvious conclusion that dead merchandise was useless merchandise.

So if one wild card was making the boss's goods useless, it would have to be removed.

She wasn't really sure how she came to the conclusion. She'd just remembered the boy and wanted to be like him. She'd wanted to save the class, too, because they were people, not things, and that adult was stupid for thinking anything else.

"Well," she shifted and faced Muku, stretching her arms behind her back to loosen her muscles after being in one position for so long. It felt wonderful, and almost distracted her from her answer.

"Have you ever met a wild animal that you were positive wouldn't bite ya?" she asked, and he slowly shook his head. "I haven't either. I just thought that, y'know, that guy thought of all you guys as animals, and me too, and if we were animals, being treated like that would start a frenzy. So I just… started a frenzy."

He blinked.

"Wouldn't an animal just bite the owner?" he asked, and she nodded gravely.

"I tried that, too," she told him seriously, "but I have flat teeth." She opened her mouth wide, proving her point, and he winced a little at the bad breath. He knew he had to have it worse, because oral hygiene wasn't exactly available at the moment, but her breath smelled like blood, and it was a little creepy. "I don't have those cool sharp teeth, so he just threw a rock at me."

"What a dick," Muku muttered, and she nodded sagely in agreement.

She didn't mention that she had also just acted as the demon she already considered herself to be. That she had pretended to give into the side of her that had laughed and played in the blood of her mother. That was… that was secret, and she kept it locked away deep down. But that didn't keep the memory and disgust from aching.

They arrived in Whirlpool just as dawn was touching the horizon, and the little girl decided she wanted to walk and stretch out her legs, now that the old man's healing had been steadily working on her for a full day. One of the smugglers nicked a civilian's wallet and bought her some bread, and she nearly inhaled the stuff, satisfying the worst of her hunger pains.

Kaoru held her hand while they walked, with Muku on the other side, and made sure that no one tried to steal from her or get too close. They spread out and slipped into the small village from different directions so that they wouldn't look like a suspicious group suddenly arriving, in order to avoid tipping off Mist informants. They agreed on a meeting place near where the little girl said Mei would probably be and decided to meet up at noon.

It would give them time to clean themselves up and transform into decent looking civilians rather than the ragged captives they appeared to be.

Muku and Kaoru decided to stay with her, and the rest of the kids divided easily into their original twos and threes, off to steal and do whatever they needed to before noon. Most of them were murmuring amongst themselves excitedly, eyes alight with life and mischief, and several nodded to her before slipping into the streets and blending in with the civilians as if they were born there. It was fascinating to watch, and delighted her to see, because she had been vaguely worried she would have to teach them all how to slip into the slums, especially since Mist ninja were typically recruited from wealthy families and clan kids. Apparently the time in captivity had long since ingrained poverty and hunger into their lives.

As someone who had watched her father hand away money for her meals to giggling women, she was no stranger to the life of hunger. It sucked, but she was glad she wouldn't have to teach them how bad it sucked.

"You got blood all over your clothes, Nee-chan," Kaoru informed her brightly. "Let's nick some cash and pick out a new Kiri outfit for ya. Your foreign colors are showing through. The little girl glanced down at her blood stained green shirt and navy pants. Now that she looked, most of the Land of Water settlers dressed in muted aquas and lavenders, blending in with their purple mist and watery habitat. She supposed she did look a little out of place in deep green.

But it wasn't like Kusa was on poor terms with Mist, as far as she knew. She hated them because of what happened to her mother, a deep scar that twinged painfully even in passing thought, but as far as she knew, Kusagakure's daimyo could care less who was using his land as a battlefield.

Well, whatever. She _was_ covered in dry blood.

She watched with interest as Kaoru let go of her hand and slipped into the crowd, watching him cling to the shadows as he snuck up on a civilian's hand bag. The woman noticed the slight brush and turned, but by then Kaoru was long gone, nearly back at their side already as a small bag of coins was slipped into his pants.

He linked an arm through hers and tugged her to the nearest shop.

"C'mon," he urged cheerfully. "You can let us pick something for you."

The little girl had never been in any sort of shop before, unless brothels counted as a shop, and she was pretty sure they didn't.

But once she was inside, it was like a wonderland of colors and _things_. There were goggles and hats and gloves and _were those giraffe print leg warmers?_ She totally wanted them.

"Wow," she breathed, taking in all the clothes. So many clothes! Enough to fill up ten closets, at least. This was beyond cool. This was… this was a magical place.

From next to her, Muku rolled his eyes and dragged her over to a rack of kimono style shirts and dresses.

"Pick one you like," he offered, smiling a little as her eyes grew wide and round.

"Any one?" she asked disbelievingly. Kaoru snorted.

"Yeah, Nee-chan. Pick any outfit you want, and make sure it fits good and you can run around easy in it. You get into trouble a lot, so don't wear stuff that'll slow you down."

"Trouble?" she frowned at Kaoru, slightly affronted. "I don't get into trouble." Both he and Muku stared at her in flat deadpan and she shrank back.

"I don't," she insisted with a small pout before turning back to the magical rack of _things_ in front of her. Her face screwed up in concentration. How was she supposed to choose just one? It was hard, harder than training, or sneaking into Mist, or freeing a bunch of smugglers and an abducted class. It was _too_ hard.

She scanned the shelf intensely, unaware of Muku and Kaoru trying not to laugh as they stood behind her, barely suppressing their grins.

"Okay," she let her breath out in a whoosh, pressing her hands together. "Okay. I've decided."

"Well grab it then, and we'll go look at the pants."

She gaped at them.

" _We're getting pants, too?"_

This was the biggest luxury she'd received since ice cream. It was like being rich, or a noble, or having a pet dragon. She was going to be like an upper class civilian with _new clothes._

"What do you think an outfit is?" Muku muttered, but she wasn't listening.

"Okay," she sucked in a deep breath. "Okay, that changes things."

Twenty minutes later, the boys had bought the little girl her first new outfit, and she was practically dancing out the shop door, ignoring the strange glances and suspicious glares of the employees.

"People will think you're itchy if you keep rubbing your face against your jacket, Nee-chan," Kaoru informed her brightly.

She stopped rubbing the fur lined hood against her cheeks just to beam at him.

"But it's soft," she breathed. "Feel." She sidled up to him as he rolled his eyes and rubbed her on the head, running his hand over the grey fur.

"Very soft," he agreed. "Good choice."

She grinned proudly and pulled the muted blue jacket tighter around her small frame. He shared a glance with Muku and they both grinned at the same time as their little hero toddled around dressed like she belonged in the Land of Water.

Muted blues also made her strange purple eyes seem brighter, though that might've just been the happiness rolling off of her in waves.

"It's almost noon," Muku reminded her. "We should meet with the others so you can take us to Mei."

"Mhm!" she nodded and they headed toward the meeting place, where she immediately ran to Kaya and the old man to show off her new clothes.

"See, and the pants aren't baggy because I trip a lot, and that's why Kaoru wouldn't let me get leg warmers even though they were _so cool,_ and look, they have _pockets._ I can put stuff in there, like candy and my gloves. Did you see my gloves? Some of the ones there had no fingers, which is _weird,_ I mean, what's the point of gloves without fingers? But don't worry, mine aren't like that…"

The old man chuckled and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Good for you, Canary-chan. You look like a fine little lady."

Kaya raised an eyebrow at the boys and Muku shrugged.

"She's never been shopping before," he explained blankly.

The little girl finally paused to catch her breath, and then gathered herself once more, blushing a little.

"Um, anyways, I'll go find Mei and bring her back here, so… so I'll be right back."

"I can come with you if you want," Kaoru offered, and she nodded.

"Okay," she agreed, and she waved at the group _(with her new gloves on!)_ and slipped her hand into Kaoru's, leading him further into the alleyways.

oOo

 **A/N: So our lovely main character has a stupid amount of luck. Like, Monkey D. Luffy level luck. Unfortunately, luck is iffy, and can be bad just as often as good. She'll probably get a taste of that later. Also, enter some of our favorite Mist canon characters! We'll be seeing them sporadically in the future.**

 **I'd like to point out that Canary-chan isn't super beautiful or unnaturally good-looking. She's just a kid, and little kids are adorable, especially a happy little girl that rescues someone from captivity and sings little songs to herself to stay calm. They haven't seen anything pleasant for a while, so it's exaggerated in their minds.**

 **Thoughts: What is Anbu-san doing right now?**


End file.
